If Love Could Save Us
by DracoWhereArtThou
Summary: A strange artifact sends Draco and Harry to a land called Middle Earth. There, they must embark upon a quest for the fate of an entire world. But what will they discover about themselves along the way? Slash warning.
1. I: Adventures in Detention

_((Hi out there! This is my first ficcy so please do be kind to it. I don't own HP or LotR but I sincerely wish I did. Please drop me a review!_ :-D  
_You can also see this regularly updated on harrypotterfanfiction dot com))_

Chapter One: Adventures in Detention 

It was a cool, crisp fall afternoon at Hogwarts.

Leaves were falling, Pumpkins were getting ripe in their patches and all of the students were either in Hosmeade or else simply out enjoying themselves.

Well...All except for two students.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were sitting dead silent, not daring to utter a word as Professor McGonigal chewed them out.

"I am absolutely appalled at your behavior! I don't know what this animosity between you two is and quite frankly I don't care! There is to be NO magic done in the halls between classes, much less fighting with it! You are fifth year students. I would CERTAINLY expect better of the both of you!"

"But he started it!" they both said at once.

McGonigal huffed. "Listen to yourselves! You sound like a pair of First Years. Fifty points will be deducted from both of your houses and you will both serve detention with Professor Trelawney tonight. Now go."

They got up and left the office without a word. But as soon as the door was closed...

"Nice going Potter..."

"Shut up, Malfoy! It was your fault and you know it..."

"If you hadn't-"

"Look. Let's stop. If this keeps up, we're only going to get into more trouble."

"Whatever, Potter. See you in detention."

* * *

Draco climbed the ladder into Trelawney's classroom that evening, all the time thinking death on Potter. After all, he thought, it WAS his fault. 

He went up through the hatch to find Potter already there, but Trelawney was nowhere in sight.

"Potter, where is the old hack?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Haven't seen her yet. Maybe she's waiting to make an entrance.

Draco sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs and sunk his head into his hands and waited.

A full ten minutes later, Trelawney seemed to materialize out of the darkness in her usual manner.

"Welcome, dear children. I perceived through the depths of space and time that we would meet tonight."

"Then you'd think you would have made it on time." muttered Draco.

Trelawney shot him a look but didn't respond.

"Tonight, you will help me to clean the crystal balls that my students can better gaze into the aura. But you may not use your wands."

She turned to gather some cloths and a bucket of water but suddenly, her head shot up and she stood rigid.

Draco and Harry stared at her.

"Uh...Professor...Are you alright?" asked Harry.

"TONIGHT...IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT..." said a deep frightening voice.

"What the..." said Malfoy.

Harry's eyes went wide. "Oh no not again."

Trelawney turned to them and spoke in a voice, not her own.

"TONIGHT, THE TRANSPORTATION WILL OCCUR...TWO MORTAL ENEMIES MUST FIND WHAT THEY SEEK YET HAVE ALWAYS LACKED, OR ALL WILL FALL INTO DARKNESS..."

She stumbled back a bit and blinked her large eyes rapidly.

"Oh, I am sorry my dears. I must have dozed off for a moment. Anyways, chop, chop. I must go see Professor Dumbledore for a few moments. And do not forget, no magic. My Inner Eye will tell me if you use it. Oh, and my dears, I ask you not to disturb the object under the cloth over on my desk."

With that, she descended the trap door, leaving Harry and Draco alone.

"What a load of rubbish!" said Malfoy. "I can't believe I have to spend my evening up here with that loon!"

* * *

This is Draco Malfoy. By definition, "Poor little rich boy." 

Some would kill for what he has.

He lives in an enormous house with his immensely rich parents and their small army of servants.

At a word, he can have whatever he wants.

The best food? No problem. The best clothes? Absolutely. A new Nimbus 2001? Just one, or one for your entire Quidditch team?

But while he enjoys all of that, none of it really matters to Draco Malfoy.

What he wants, what he truly desires most in the world is something that all the Gold Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Bronze Gnuts in the world can't buy.

He wants friends.

True, he has goons like Crabbe and Goyle, but he knows they aren't friends. He knows that he can't go to them when he's had a bad day or when he needs to talk to someone.

And his House only pretends to like him because he's rich.

He wants someone who would stick by him even if he was a pauper.

He thought he might have found someone like that once.

He has heard about how this person was raised by the most dreadful sort of Muggles imaginable and how all his life he had been down-trodden.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, this person might be wanting a friend.

"_You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."_

"_I think I can tell the wrong sort for my self thanks."_

He had offered his friendship in the only way he knew how...but the person, Harry Potter, had rejected him.

So, now, he hates the very one whom he had once offered friendship to.

He now takes every opportunity he can find to hurt the one who hurt him.

* * *

Harry couldn't help but agree. 

Sybill Trelawney was a teacher he avoided almost as much as Professor Snape. She had been convinced since third year that he was going to die. A lot of times, she burst into tears when she looked at him.

"Well it's better at least then scrubbing out the Owlry or going into the Forbidden Forest.

Malfoy started to laugh but caught himself and went back to scrubbing the crystal ball.

* * *

This is Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, but as ever, the reluctant hero. 

He never asked to survive an attack from the most powerful Dark Wizard in a Century. He never asked to be sent of to live with his Uncle Vernon, his Aunt Petunia, and his lump of a cousin, Dudley. And he never asked to now have the Daily Prophet taking pot-shots at him whenever it got the chance. All he ever wanted was to be normal. He wanted to live a normal life with normal friends and to maybe one day, even find love.

But fate doesn't always hand us what we want.

Harry's friends are Ron Weasley, a young red-headed wizard from a huge wizarding family, and Hermione Granger, possibly the cleverest young witch in Hogwarts. But most importantly, he doesn't know how to truly love. He would never even dream of asking the Dursleys. Ron would scratch his head and start to say a few things before giving up and asking if Harry wanted to play a game of Wizards Chess. Hermione would probably tell him the definition of the word love out of a book, but that isn't what Harry is looking for. He is looking for the way to love.

The saddest part of this is that the answer lies within himself. He just doesn't know it.

Everyone know how to love. Harry just hasn't found it...yet.

* * *

After cleaning his sixth crystal ball, Malfoy threw down his cloth and stood to stretch. As he did, his eyes fell on the table upon which the object Trelawney had told them not to touch rested. Without thinking about it, he moved closer. 

Harry glanced up from his work. "What do you think you're doing?"

"None of your business, Potter."

He walked over to the table and looked at the object. It was covered with a cloth and whatever it was, it was round.

He bent down to remove the cloth.

"Malfoy! Trelawney told us not to touch that!"

Draco sighed and glared at him. "I'm not going to touch it. I just want to look at it."

Harry stood and went over to him. "You're going to get us both into trouble."

"Then go back to cleaning your balls, Potter." he sneered, chuckling at his own joke.

He slowly removed the cloth to reveal... "See there? It's just another crystal ball."

Harry looked confused. "Why would she be so worried about us messing with that?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Why's she do anything she does? She's a complete mental." He picked up the ball and found it to be much heavier than he had anticipated. He gazed into its murky depths. For a while, there was nothing. Then, all of a sudden, it was filled with fire. Through the fire, he saw a withered white tree in a courtyard of stone. It was dead and the city was burning.

But then, the view shifted to a tall dark tower. A shape, blacker than night filled the globe and then, a great eye, lidless, wreathed in flame.

"_Who are you? What is your name?"_ it asked.

Malfoy tried to drop the ball, but his hands seemed to be glued to the ball. He vaguely heard Harry calling his name.

"_ANSWER!"_ roared the voice and a wave of pain swept through him.

"D-Draco...Mal-Malfoy." he stammered.

The voice laughed and said _"I SEE YOU!"_ Then, Malfoy knew only pain. It coursed through his body like wildfire, and into his very soul. He fell to the ground, screaming and convulsing.

Harry thought at first that Malfoy was playing another of his cruel tricks, but then, his scar started to burn horribly. He knew something was very wrong. He reached out to try and grab the ball from Malfoy, but all that happened was that the pain rocketed through his body as well.

The two of them lay there clutching the ball, unable to control their convulsions for the horrible pain, and then, it all went deadly black.

* * *

These are our heroes. Both so different and yet seeking the same thing. Neither has a clue what awaits them, but perhaps as they embark upon the adventure of a lifetime, they will find that elusive thing they seek.

* * *

Harry awoke with the most enormous headache. He had never experienced a hangover, but he imagined it felt something like this. He sat up and looked around. He was in a large forest clearing and the sun was shining bright through the trees. Malfoy was still out cold a few feet away. There was a dirt road a few feet away which curved around a small hill and out of sight. He didn't know how, but he got the nasty feeling that he wasn't in England anymore. This was confirmed when four small men came around the bend. They could have looked almost human except for their pointed ears and their large, very hairy feet. They appeared to be in a hurry and kept stealing furtive glances over their shoulders. They stopped dead when they saw Harry. 

"Um...Hello." he said.

"What do you want?" asked one of them, a rather plump one at that.

Harry stood up slowly, trying not to jostle his head. "Nothing...just...where is this?"

"The Eastfarthing." answered another. "Hobbiton is down the road some miles that way." he pointed to the left.

"Hobbiton...Then noone of you might know where Hogsmeade is, would you?"

The four glanced blankly at each other.

"Guess not."

"If ye don't mind me asking, who might you be?" asked the third.

"Oh sorry. My name's Harry. Harry Potter. What are your names? And not to be rude, but what are you?"

"We, dear sir, are Hobbits of the Shire. My names Peregrin Took but you can call me Pippin. This here is my esteemed cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck also called Merry. The one glaring at you is Sam Gamgee and this is Frodo Bag- Ouch!" The one called Merry had just dug his heel into Pippin's toe.

"This is Mr. Underhill." finished Merry. "Well, unless you need anything else, we'd best be...Hold on, is he alright?" he asked, pointing at Malfoy.

Harry glanced down at him, splayed on the forest floor. "I'm not sure. Look, is there a doctor anywhere around here? I hope he doesn't, but he might need one."

Mr. Underhill bit his lip and glanced at the others. Finally, he spoke. "There is one in Crickhollow, where we are going, but I'm not sure if he knows anything about healing Big Folk."

Harry bent and picked Malfoy up, putting him over his shoulder. "Well he'll be better than nothing. Do you mind if I travel with you? I don't know the way."

Again they looked nervously at each other. "You-You don't work for the Black Riders, do you?" asked Pippin.

"Black Riders? I have no clue what you're talking about. We're both studying to be Wizards at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Their eyes lit up. "A wizard! D'you know Gandalf then?" asked Pippin excitedly.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I don't think I know anyone here. In fact, I really don't know where 'here' is."

"Well," began Pippin. "This is the Eastfarthing, one of the four Farthings of the Shire in Middle Earth."

Harry still had no clue what any of this meant, but he followed the Hobbits and let Pippin keep talking. Eventually, Malfoy woke up in a very cranky mood. Harry introduced him to the Hobbits and told him their destination. Malfoy was less than pleased, but he really didn't want to wander off alone in a strange land.

Near nightfall, they stopped for a bite to eat. They happily shared their food with Harry and Malfoy, though Malfoy made faces as he ate it.

Suddenly, high and far off, they heard a dreadful wail.

"Black Riders!" hissed Sam.

They grabbed up their supplies and ran off the road.

"Do you see anything?" asked Sam.

"No, there's nothing." said Frodo.

"What in the world is going on? What was that sound?" demanded Malfoy.

Frodo looked up at him and opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly Sam yelled, "Get down!" they dropped to their bellies just as a tall dark shape on a horse rounded a bend on the road ahead. It looked around for a moment before going back down the road.

Frodo sighed. "We can't go to Crickhollow. It is likely being watched. I have to leave the Shire. Sam and I must get to Bree."

Merry nodded knowingly. "Right. Buckleberry Ferry! Follow me!"

Harry had no idea why, but he felt he had to stay with these four.

Suddenly, a dark shape burst forth from the trees with a loud screech.

Malfoy, Merry, Pippin and Sam immediately ran but the apparition blocked Frodo and Harry's path.

Harry gasped as he gazed up at the creature. It looked just like a Dementor!

Harry removed his wand from his robes and pointed it at the creature.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ he cried.

Immediately, the silvery form of Prongs the Stag leapt from the wand and charged the creature.

It screeched and galloped into the trees.

Harry grabbed Frodo and ran in the direction the others had gone.

They found them at a dock, rapidly untying a raft.

"Hurry, go!" shouted Frodo.

They all got onboard and pushed off across the river.

As they debarked on the other side, they looked back. The shape of a dark figure on a horse could be seen at the dock.

Another cry went up and it galloped off.

"How far to the nearest crossing?" asked Frodo.

"The Brandywine bridge. Twenty miles." said Merry.

Frodo looked up at Harry. "How was it that you drove off the Black Rider? What was that thing you conjured?"

"It's called a Patronus. It's a spirit made of happiness. I thought your Black Rider was something called a Dementor."

"Didn't faint, did you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy.

Harry ignored him. "Look, I hate to impose, but can we go with you as far as this town, Bree? We might find some answers there."

"How do we know we can trust you?" asked Sam sharply.

Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, he saved my life when he had no reason to." He turned to them. "Yes. We would welcome your company."

With that, they started off.

* * *

It was freezing and raining by the time they reached the gates of Bree. 

Frodo knocked vigorously, and after a moment, a small porthole opened. A man who looked eerily like Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, glared at Harry and Malfoy.

"What is it?" he demanded.

Harry pointed down. The man looked confused for a moment but then got the idea and opened a hole lower down at Hobbit level.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"We're heading for the Prancing Pony." said Frodo.

The man withdrew and opened the door, shining a lamp in their faces.

"Hobbits! Four Hobbits out of the Shire by your talk. And two young men. Whereabouts are you from?"

"Uh...England," answered Harry.

The man scrunched his face. "Never heard of it. What business brings all of you to Bree?"

"We wish to stay at the Inn. Our business is our own." said Frodo.

The man stepped aside, surprised at Frodo's forceful answer. "Alright, young sir, I meant no offence. It's my job to answer questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful. OH and if you're headed for the Inn, you'll find that more than just me'll be asking questions." with that, he retreated into his hut.

After walking a ways into the town, they found a place with a sign depicting a fat pony rearing up on its back legs.

"Ugh, what a dump!" said Malfoy. "I'm not staying here!"

Harry shrugged as he followed the Hobbits inside. "Do what you like."

Malfoy growled a curse under his breath but went also.

They approached the counter.

"Excuse me." said Frodo.

A plump man who had been washing a glass looked back at Draco and Harry.

"Ah, welcome to the Prancing Pony. My name is Barliman Butterbur. What can I do for you, good sirs?"

"Uh...They're ahead of us." said Harry, pointing down at the Hobbits.

Butterbur leaned over the counter and looked down.

"Ah, good evening, little masters. What can I do for you? If you're seeking accommodation, we have some nice, cozy, Hobbit-Sized rooms available. Always proud to cater to the Little Folk, Mr. Uh..."

"Underhill." said Frodo after a pause. "My name's Underhill."

Butterbur looked blank. "Ah...Underhill..."

Frodo looked nervously at the others. "We're friends of Gandalf the Grey, can you tell him we've arrived?"

Butterbur looked even more confused. "Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh yes! I remember! A very good patron is Mr. Gandalf! But I've not seen him for six months, I'm afraid. Gandalf, now what does that remind me of? Oh well, one thing drives out another and I'm a busy man."

The Hobbits huddled close. "What do we do now?" asked Sam.

Butterbur cleared his throat. "If you're expecting Mr. Gandalf to arrive, you could wait in the Common Room and get a bite to eat.

The Hobbits agreed to this and went to their rooms to freshen up.

Harry and Draco approached the counter. "Um...I guess we would like two rooms for the night." said Harry.

"I'm sorry sir, but I've only got one man-sized room left. We've had a lot of visitors come up the Greenway and there's a troup of traveling Dwarves and all."

"Oh my god, we have to share a room?" asked Malfoy incredulously.

Butterbur's face hardened. "You can try to find another inn if you like, sir, but you'll find no better there."

"We'll take it." said Harry.

They both got out a few spare Gold Gallions and set them on the counter.

Butterbur picked one up and inspected it. "Never seen nothing like this. Real gold is it?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright then. Here are your keys. If you'de like, you can join us in the Common Room as well.

"I'm starving." said Malfoy. "Let's go there now. I'll eat whatever it is they're serving at this point."

They chose a table and sat. A few minutes later, the Hobbits cane in. Harry waved to them and they came over and joined them.

Butterbur brought them a loaf of bread for the table and a plate with some kind of meat and some cheese for each of them.

Despite his declaration to the contrary, Malfoy complained loud and long about the food.

Harry on the other hand dug in immediately.

Merry had gone to the Bar and came back with a triumphant grin on his face. He carried a huge mug.

"What's that?" asked Pippin with awe.

"This, my friend," declared Merry, "is a pint."

Pippin's jaw dropped. "It comes in pints"

Merry voiced an acknowledgment, though his face was engulfed in the mug.

"I'm getting one!" said Pippin and took off for the Bar.

"But you've had a whole half already!" said Sam to no avail.

After a few moments, Harry began to get the strange feeling of being watched. He looked around the room before he spotted a man wrapped in a dark, travel-stained cloak sitting in the corner. Though his face was shrouded, he could still see the man's eyes fixed on their table, and most especially at Harry and Frodo.

Sam nudged Frodo. "That man's done nothing but stare at you and Mr. Harry since we arrived."

Harry saw Butterbur passing by and he stopped him.

"Who is that man sitting over there in the corner."

Butterbur looked up but then quickly dropped his head when he saw who Harry meant.

"He's one of them Rangers. Dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but 'round here, he's known as Strider."

"Strider..." muttered Frodo. Harry could see him looking at something in his hands and was aout to ask him what when he heard from across the room, "Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins! He's over there. Frodo Baggins!" Pippin was well into his second pint and it had clearly loosened his tongue.

Malfoy looked confused. "I thought your name was Underhill."

Frodo shot out of his seat and went over to grab Pippin, but he lost his footing and fell to the floor.

Something small and golden flew out of his hand and came back down to land on his finger. Instantly, he vanished.

A collective gasp went up around the room.

"What in the hell just happened?" asked Malfoy.

Harry just shook his head.

A moment later, they say Frodo reappear nearby, gasping for breath.

They started to make their way towards him, but a dark shadow flew out of the corner and grabbed him, pulling him up the stairs.

"Oy!" shouted Sam. "We have to stop him!"

Pippin grabbed a barstool while Merry opted for a candleholder.

Harry and Malfoy pulled out their wands.

The five made their way up the stairs and down the hall until they heard Frodo's voice inside one room.

Harry grabbed the doorknob and nodded to the others.

With a shout, they burst into the room. Harry aimed his wand at the man who had drawn a sword when he heard them coming.

"_Expeliamus!" _he shouted. The sword flew out of his grasp and into Harry's outstretched hand.

At the same time, Malfoy shouted, _"Incarcerous!"_ and ropes appeares, binding the man.

He struggled for a moment but stopped when he saw Harry and Malfoy pointing their wands at him.

"Mr. Frodo, are you alright?" asked Sam.

"Yes Sam, I'm fine."

"Who are you?" asked Harry.

The man glared at him. "As I was trying to explain to Frodo, my name is Strider. I am friend to Gandalf the Grey."

Frodo studied Strider for a few moments. "Please release him. I believe him."

"What? Are you off your rocker?" asked Malfoy.

"No. A servant of the Enemy would look fair but feel foul."

Malfoy sighed. "Well he's foul enough." But he flicked his wand and instantly, the ropes vanished.

Strider got up. "Thank you. Who are you gentlemen that you have such power?"

"My name is Harry Potter. This is Draco Malfoy. We're extremely powerful wizards so you had better not try anything."

Pippin furrowed his brow. "I thought you said you were in trai-OW!" This time it was Malfoy who stepped on his foot.

Strider raised an eyebrow at them. "Your own rooms will not be safe tonight. You can stay in mine."

"Safe?" asked Merry. "Safe from what?"

Strider drew in a deep breath. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming."


	2. I: Attack on Weathertop

((Here's another chappie! Thanks for the reviews. I don't own HP or LotR.))

Chapter 2: Attack on Weathertop

Harry awoke with a start and sat up. He looked wildly around the room, not knowing where he was for a moment, but seconds later, it all came back to him. He saw Strider sitting by the window with his sword ready. All of the Hobbits except Frodo were in one bed while he was in another. When he looked down, he realized that he and Malfoy had gotten uncomfortably close as they slept.

He quietly slipped out of the bed and joined Strider and Frodo by the window.

Suddenly, an ear piercing wail broke the silence, waking everyone in the room up.

"They're downstairs..." whispered Harry.

Strider nodded and tightened his gip on his sword.

"What are they?" asked Frodo.

Strider sighed. "They were once men. Great Kings of Men. But Sauron the Deciever gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one, falling into Darkness. Now, they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul. Ringwraiths, neither living, nor dead. They will never stop hunting you."

"But why do they want you?" asked Malfoy. "I mean, no offence, but you don't seem that important."

Frodo glanced at Strider who shrugged. "You might as well tell them, Frodo. They are caught up in this just as much as you and me.

Frodo proceeded to launch into the tale of how his Uncle had found a Magic Ring in a cave and had passed it on to him. He then told them what Gandalf informed him of, about how it was the One Ring forged by the Dark Lord Sauron.

"We were to meet Gandalf here and he was going to give us further instructions, but he wasn't here."

Strider nodded. "This matter of Gandalf's absence concerns me greatly. Never have I known Gandalf to be late before. I do not even want to think of what might be able to hold him up. But we cannot wait. At first light, we must leave. We fooled the Wraiths this night, but they will not be fooled again. We make for Rivendell."

Strider woke them even before first light.

"No," grumbled Malfoy as Strider shook him. "Potions isn't for another two hours." Finally they got him up and they packed their things. But leaving was to prove quite difficult. The Horse Pen had been opened during the night and all of the horses and ponies to be found had run off. After three hours of scouring the village, they managed to find a mangy, half-starved beast being sold for thrice its worth by a man named Bill Ferney.

In the end they had to buy it.

By the time they left, it was nearly eight-o-clock.

* * *

Soon after they left, it began to snow. Harry soon decided that he hated the stuff. At Hogwarts, it was a wonderful thing. It turned the school grounds into a winter wonderland. There, he liked the cold because he knew there was a roaring fire and a piping hot shower waiting for him in Gryffindor Common-House, and then a delicious hot meal in the dining hall. But here, wet, cold mornings led into wet, cold afternoons, which then proceeded into wet, cold nights. And between very, very short stops, there was nothing but walking and more walking. Harry felt his legs would soon fall off. 

Apparently, the Hobbits felt the same because they all at once stopped and dropped their packs and began to remove cooking supplies.

Strider turned. "Gentlemen, we do not stop 'til nightfall."

"What about Breakfast?" asked Pippin.

Strider raised and eyebrow. "You've already had it."

Pippin huffed as if this were the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?"

Strider gaped and kept walking.

"I'm not entirely sure he knows about second breakfast, Pippin." said Harry.

Pippin's jaw dropped. "What about elevensies...afternoon tea?...dinner?...supper! He knows about them, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't count on it, Pip." said Merry.

Suddenly, an apple flew through the air which Merry caught. The Hobbit smirked and handed it to the dumbstruck Pippin, who missed a second apple which struck him square in the forehead.

* * *

Draco slapped about the millionth bug that had tried to make lunch out of him since they had entered this god-forsaken bog the day before. He imagined he would be a fine sight back at home. His robes were soaked and covered in mud, his platinum-blonde hair, which he took such pride in, was plastered to his forehead, and his skin was covered in red splotches from all the bug bites he had received. But at least Potter was doing no better, he mused. Harry kept having to stop and wipe his glasses. After a while of this, he slapped his forehead and pulled out his wand and pointed it at the glasses. "Impervius." he said. He remembered the handy spell for making things repel water from when Hermione had used it to help him in a Quidditch match third year. 

"What do they eat..." SLAP! "...when they can't get Hobbit..." SLAP! "...or Wizard!" asked Merry who was also trying to ward off the nasty little creatures.

At long last, they reached the end of the marsh. Strider gazed up at a hill which rose before them. At the top could be seen a ring of ruins.

"This was the great watch-tower of Amon-Sul." he said. "We shall rest here tonight."

The Wizards and the Hobbits dropped their packs and slumped down on the ground, massaging their aching feet. Strider, on the other hand, stepped out to survey the land.

"Doesn't he ever rest?" muttered Draco.

Strider turned back to them and pulled out a small bundle from his pack. He unfurled it to reveal four short swords.

"These are for you. Harry, Draco, I have none for you, I'm afraid, but you don't seem to need any extra protection."

The Hobbits each took a sword.

Strider stood. "Stay here. I'm going to go have a look 'round. Harry, would you come with me? Draco, watch after them."

* * *

"My tomato burst." 

"Here, have some more."

"More sausage, Mr. Draco?"

Frodo awoke to these sounds, along with the smell of food and fire. He sat up like a shot. "What are you doing!" he practically screamed.

"Tomatoes, sausages and nice crispy bacon." said Merry calmly.

"We saved some for you, Mr. Frodo." said Sam.

Frodo rushed forward and stamped the fire out. "Put it out, you fools, put it out!"

"Oh nice one, mate," said Draco. "You got ash all over my tomatoes!"

A blood-curdling wail which they knew all too well pierced the air.

They ran to the lip of the outcropping and gazed down into the fog. They could see five black shapes moving swiftly towards the hill.

Frodo drew his sword. "Go!" he shouted. Nobody had to tell them twice. The other Hobbits drew their swords and Draco drew his wand and they ran up to the top of the hill.

They stood with their backs to one-another and looked around wildly.

Frodo saw it first.

A tall figure draped in a black cloak seemed to appear out of the darkness. It hissed and drew a long, pale sword. Four others soon followed.

Draco used the first spell he could think of and launched it at the lead creature.

"Stupefy!" The Wraith held up its gloved hand as a bolt of red light lanced towards it. The hand glowed red for a moment before the spell launched right back at Draco. The young wizard flew through the air and landed a few feet back from the Hobbits, out cold.

Sam tried to cross swords with the beast, but was thrown aside like a rag-doll.

Merry and Pippin also tried to protect Frodo, but they too were tossed aside.

Frodo's foot caught on a loose stone, causing him to topple backwards and drop his sword. He felt an irresistable voice, screaming at him to put on the Ring. He struggled against it, but failed.

Everything around him became dim and it took him a moment to realize he had the Ring on. He looked up. Though the world was dim and shadowy, the forms of the Wraiths could be seen all too clearly.

Their skin was like old parchment. Where there should have been eyes, there were only sunken sockets. They wore grey robes which shone with a sickly light and atop their heads were pale crowns.

The leader drew a long dagger from a hidden sheath and advanced on Frodo. He tried desperately to get up and run but he couldn't. The dagger came down and pierced his shoulder. He screamed for the torment it inflicted on him. Suddenly, out of the darkness, a voice called out.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

A shining white stag leapt over him and charged the Wraiths. At the same time, a figure wielding a torch also charged.

* * *

Harry directed Prongs around while Strider swung the torch at the Wraiths. 

One tried to take Prongs from the back, but a swift rear kick sent it flying. Seconds later, it was all over. The Wraiths were driven off.

"Strider!" called Sam.

Harry and he ran over to where Sam, Merry and Pippin were kneeling over the prone form of Frodo. A few feet away, Draco was just coming out of his daze.

Strider bent and picked up a wicked-looking dagger. "He's been stabbed by a Morgul Blade."

As if in response, the blade hissed and disintegrated into a foul-smelling smoke.

"This is beyond my skill to heal." said Strider. "He needs Elvish medicine."

They ran through the woods, with Harry and Draco providing light from their wands.

"We're six days from Rivendell!" cried Sam. "He'll never make it!"

"Hold on, Frodo." whispered Strider.

The young Hobbit muttered something then cried out, "Gandalf!"

* * *

Harry, at Strider's direction, was looking for a plant called Kingsfoil. He had described what it looked like, and Harry was fairly sure he remembered something like it from Herbology. Finally, he spotted some. He stooped to gather it, but suddenly felt cold steel against his neck. He froze. 

"Who are you?" asked a suspicious voice.

Harry let out the breath he was holding. At least it wasn't one of those Wraiths.

"My name is Harry Potter. I'm a traveling companion of Strider the Ranger."

The sword wavered. "Strider? Take me to him."

"Hold on." said Harry. "I need to gather this Kingsfoil. One of our companions was stabbed by a Ringwraith.

"I have some in my pouch. Now quickly, take me to Strider." said the voice.

"Not until you take your sword away and tell me who you are." said Harry. The sword was removed.

"I am Glorfindel, an Elf Lord of Rivendell."

Harry turned to face a man who was, well, beautiful. He had golden hair that almost shone in the darkness, and a face which could make a monk weep. He sat gracefully atop a gorgeous white horse, and a light seemed to shine from within him.

Harry swallowed hard and led the way back to their camp.

Strider was overjoyed when he saw Glorfindel. The two embraced like long-lost friends and began to speak rapidly in a strange language.

Soon, he was led over to Frodo. The Hobbit had gotten worse even since Harry had seen him last. His wound was turning a nasty shade of purple and he had broken out in a cold sweat.

Strider had explained that he was passing into the shadow-world and that he would soon be a Wraith unless they could get him to Lord Elrond in Rivendell.

Glorfindel examined Frodo with a grim look on his face. "He's fading. He is not going to last long. We must get him to Rivendell now. He will ride upon Asfaloth."

He picked the Hobbit up and began to strap him into the saddle.

"Wait!" said Harry. "You can't send him alone! Someone has to go with him!"

"He will go faster alone," said Glorfindel. "And none of us can face the Nine all gathered together.

not even I can do such."

"But I can." said Harry.

Glorfindel laughed. "You? You cannot be more than fifteen summers. Unless you have some hidden power about you-"

"But he does." said Strider. Glorfindel looked at him questioningly. "He has a power which the Nazgul fear. I believe he and Draco here to be Istari."

Glorfindel stared at Harry. "Is this true? Are you one of the Istari? Wizards like Mithrandir?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. We are Wizards. Look, we don't have time to sit around and talk. We have to go now or Frodo will die."

Glorfindel nodded reluctantly and put Harry in the saddle behind Frodo.

Strider put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, ride hard. Don't look back."

Glorfindel leaned forward and whispered something in Asfaloth's ear. The Horse reared up and took off like a bolt of lightning.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Screamed Draco. "Those Wraiths are still out there!"

* * *

Harry didn't know how long he had ridden. His entire world was the pounding of hooves and the stinging whip of branches as they passed too close, and Frodo gasping weakly every time they hit a bump. 

Suddenly, the air seemed to grow cold. Harry looked wildly around. He found that without warning, eight Wraiths had intercepted them and were fast on their heels.

He screamed and tried to spur the poor horse on to even faster speeds.

Asfaloth suddenly turned into a patch of woods and began circling trees, throwing the Wraiths off and sowing confusion. When they were sufficiently discombobulated, he took back off towards a river that Harry could just see through the trees.

Suddenly, another wraith stepped out right in front of them, but Asfaloth took a tremendous leap and sailed right over his head. When they reached the far side of the river, Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the Wraiths who were gathering on the opposite shore. "Get back! Go back wherever you came from and leave him in peace!"

_"Give up the Halfling, whelp!"_ hissed the lead Wraith. It raised its head and made a sound like it was sucking in a deep breath.

Harry's vision suddenly began to swim. He heard voices, starting out dim and growing progressively louder.

_"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside you silly girl...stand aside now!"_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead...Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy...AHHHHHH!"_

Harry tried to fight it. He tried to raise his wand up. "expecto...expecto..."

He fell from the saddle and landed hard on the ground.

"I'm sorry Frodo...I'm so sorry..." he whispered.

He dimly saw the Wraiths riding out into the river.

It barely registered when a loud roar followed by a huge wave swept the Wraiths away.

Darkness then took him and he knew no more.


	3. I: Twin Tricksters

_((-gasp- Two chapters in one day? How is she doing it? _**:-D**_ I don't own HP or LotR))_

Chapter 3: Twin Tricksters_  
_

_"Harry, lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan nan galad."_

The voice was very strange, and yet at the same time, like hearing an old friend.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself looking up at a man who appeared young, but very old.

"Who are you?" he asked weakly.

The man smiled. "My name is Elrond. Welcome to Rivendell, Harry Potter."

Harry tried to brace himself sit up, but found that one of his arms was in a sling.

"What...What happened?" he asked.

"Do you not remember?" asked Elrond.

Harry strained to think of all that had happened since that strange detention which seemed so long ago. "I remember riding...And the Dementors or Wraiths or whatever they are chased me. Then...Then I heard my mother..."

Elrond smiled again. "That is good. You remember much. That is more than can be said of many who suffer the Black Breath. To fill in the gaps, after the Witch King attacked you, you fell off your horse and broke your arm. Believing that you were dead, they came for Frodo and the Ring. That is when we sprung our trap. As soon as all nine were in the river, I called the Loudwater and it answered my call. Swift is the water which flows down from the Misty Mountains. The Nine have been deprived of their mounts and their solid forms."

"So they're dead then?"

Elrond sighed. "I am afraid not, Harry. They have been greatly diminished, but they will return now to their dark master and will be given form again."

Harry allowed himself to sink back into the warm comfort of the bed, but he immediately sat up again. "Frodo and he others, are they-"

"Relax, Mr. Potter. They are fine. You got Frodo here just in time. He is resting now. The others are also well. I just sent Strider and Mr. Malfoy off to get some rest. They have stayed by your side since they arrived."

This news shocked Harry very much. This was the last thing he ever expected of Malfoy.

"Am I well enough to get up for a bit?" asked Harry.

Elrond shrugged. "Only if you feel well enough. But be careful of your arm and do not tire yourself out."

* * *

Harry found Frodo's room and entered, expecting to find the Hobbits keeping Vigil. Instead, he found only an old man in tatty grey robes sitting in a chair next to the bed, smoking a long wooden pipe. 

The man looked up at Harry. "Ah. You must be Mr. Potter, the one I have heard so much about. I am Gandalf. We will have much to discuss later as soon as Mr. Malfoy awakens."

Harry nodded and pulled another chair up next to Frodo's bed. While he didn't seem quite well, he was still much better than when Harry had seen him last. Though his right side seemed somehow slightly more transparent than normal.

Frodo stirred suddenly and let out a small groan. "Where am I? What time is it?" he practically whispered.

Gandalf smiled. "You are in the house of Elrond. And it is ten-o-clock in the morning on October the twenty-fourth if you want to know."

Frodo's eyes fluttered open. "Gandalf! Harry!"

Harry smiled down at him, glad to see him awake.

"Yes, we are here." said Gandalf. "And you are lucky to be here after all the absurd things you have done since leaving home. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. But you have some strength in you, my dear Hobbit."

Frodo turned his gaze to Harry. His eyes widened when he saw the sling. "Harry, you're hurt!"

"Just a broken arm. I've had worse. Once, I had all the bones in my arm removed."

Frodo smiled but then looked back at Gandalf. "What happened, Gandalf? Why didn't you meet us?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Frodo..." he looked as if he were trying to choose the right words. "I was...delayed." Harry saw a distant look in his eyes and could tell that he was remembering something painful.

But Gandalf was spared from further questioning by a delighted voice calling, "Mr. Frodo! Bless you, you're awake!"

Gandalf's smile returned. "Sam has hardly left your side."

"We were that worried about you, weren't we Mr. Gandalf?" said the Hobbit.

Another entered the room after Sam. "By the skills of Lord Elrond, you are beginning to mend."

Elrond smiled down at Frodo. "Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

* * *

Harry decided to let Frodo rest...Well...rest as well as he could with Sam worrying over him like a mother hen. 

He walked down the Hall towards the kitchens where he was told he could get a bite to eat. A door opened ahead and he nearly collided with a very sleepy-looking Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Harry." he grumbled.

Harry smiled inwardly. He had just called him "Harry." instead of "Potter."

"Sorry about that. I heard you were worried about me."

Malfoy's face turned slightly red. "Of course I wasn't worried, Scar-Head." he sneered. "I just didn't want to get stuck by myself in this god-forsaken world, all because you get all weak in the knees every time a Dementor comes around. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find Strider."

"Nobody's stopping you." said Harry, stepping aside.

Draco started past him, but before he did, Harry stopped him.

"Draco, wait."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "What?"

Harry grinned. "Your hair is sticking up everywhere."

* * *

They rested in Rivendell over the next days. Harry didn't know what it was about the place, but he awoke every day feeling more content than he ever had even at Hogwarts. But still, he was sad. He missed his friends like Ron and Hermione and Hagrid terribly. He knew that they must be worried sick about him. Likely, they thought he had been captured or even killed by Voldemort. Harry knew that Dumbledore probably had the entire Order of the Phoenix out looking for him. He also knew that the Daily Prophet must have been having a field-day with this one. The same paper that had once heralded him as a savior now called him an attention-seeking trouble-maker. 

But still, there were plenty of things to make him temporarily forget his sadness.

The first of these came one day when he was awoken one morning by the most horrifying scream he had ever heard in his life. He opened his door and ran outside. At the same time, Malfoy burst from his room. Despite the fact that he looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him, nothing could stop the torrent of laughter which welled up within him at the sight of his old arch-nemesis.

His hair, his beautiful platinum blonde hair was now a very delightful shade of Purple.

Malfoy's head whipped around when he heard Harry laughing. He was ready to curse Harry into next month, but even in his current predicament, couldn't stop his own torrent of laughter. While his hair was purple, Harry's was quite utterly green.

"What are you laughing at, Malfoy?" asked Harry?

Malfoy went into his room and came back with a hand-mirror. Harry's laughter immediately ceased when he saw his own hair.

"Who in the hell did this!" he asked, enraged.

By then, Elrond had arrived. He was about to ask what was wrong with them, but then he saw their hair. He pursed his lips.

"ELEDAN! ELROHIR!" he roared.

Two identical Elves popped around the corner.

"You bellowed, father?" they both said in unison.

Elrond stalked towards them. "How dare you treat guests in this manner!"

The twins looked highly offended.

"Father, what makes you think that we, your beloved sons, are responsible?" asked Eledan.

Elrohir nodded. "'Dan is right. Just because we put honey in Glorfindel's bed..."

"...and put one of Mithrandir's fire-cracker's in Estel's lavatory..."

"...and then put a frog in Mithrandir's hat..."

"...that doesn't mean we are responsible for Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy's current condition."

"Although if it had been us..."

"...it would have been quite clever, wouldn't it?"

Harry leaned over to Draco. "Do they remind you of anyone we know?"

Draco gritted his teeth, remembering the many pranks that he had suffered at the hands of the Weasley twins, Fred and George. "Too much. They seem to like laughter, Potter. What do you say we give them something to laugh about?"

Harry and Draco took out their wands and pointed them at the twins. "Rictusempra!" they both shouted.

Two blasts of magic hit Eledan and Elrohir, sending them flying backwards.

They both landed with a thud.

Elrond whirled on the two wizards. "What did you do to them?"

Harry grinned. "Oh, you'll see."

Suddenly, peals of laughter erupted from the twins. Elrond turned back to them.

Both lay on the ground giggling uncontrollably. Elrond looked concerned for a moment, but then a slow smile spread across his face.

"It's called the tickling charm." said Harry. "It'll wear off in a few hours."

"Or at least it's supposed to..." said Malfoy.

The twins got up and ran for their rooms. "I hope...HAHAHAHA!...I hope you...HAHAHA!...know this means war!...HAHAHAHAHA!" they shouted through their laughter.

Word quickly got around that the two visitors had beaten Rivendell's twin terrors. This caused Harry and Draco to receive the same kind of praise from the Elves that a hero who slays a tyrant king gets from the liberated people.Though no more pranks came within the next few weeks, Harry and Draco knew that only meant whatever did come would be truly awful.

* * *

Elrond stood up in his study with Gandalf, watching Harry, Draco and the Hobbits talking animatedly. 

"Their strength returns." noted Elrond.

Gandalf nodded. "Though Frodo's wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life."

Elrond went to pour himself a drink. "And yet to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil."

Gandalf saw where the Elf Lord was going with this train of thought. "It is a burden he should never have had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo."

Elrond sighed and set his glass down. "Gandalf, the Enemy is moving. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."

Gandalf took a deep breath. He hadn't yet told Elrond the worst of it. "His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin Men. He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can movein sunlight and cover great distances with seed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

Elrond's eyes widened at this news. "This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves." he snapped. "We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard." Gandalf leaned on the railing and gazed out over Rivendell. He had suspected this would be Elrond's answer. "Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay here. This peril belongs to all Middle Earth. They must decide now how to end it. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others."

Gandalf straightened. "It is Men that we must place our hope."

"Men?" scoffed Elrond. "Men are weak. The Blood of Numenor is all but spent, it's pride and dignity forgotten. There is no strength left in the World of Men. They are scattered, divided, leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them. One who could reclaim the Throne of Gondor."

Elrond sighed sadly. "He turned from that path long ago. He has chosen exile."

"But it does not have to stay that way. Speak to him. You are the only father he has ever known. He will listen to you."

"I will try, Gandalf. But Estel is very stubborn. Once he sets his mind, little can change it. But this still leaves us with the matter of the Ring. What is to be done?"

Gandalf thought for a moment. "Since, as you said, this peril belongs to all Middle Earth, we should call a meeting of the Free Peoples. They deserve to know. Send out riders to Denethor in Gondor, Thranduil in Mirkwood and Dain in Erebor. Frodo and Bilbo will serve as representatives for the Hobbits. Invite the wisest and the strongest of the Elf Lords here as well. And, I believe Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy should come as well."

Elrond looked confused. "Why them? They are children and they do not even seem to be of Middle Earth."

"But they arrived right at this time and they just so happened to Meet Frodo." argued Gandalf. "I do not believe this to be chance. Whether by our will or not, they are involved with the Ring in some way or another."

Elrond let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well. They will attend."


	4. I: The Fellowship is Formed

_((New Chappie! Gosh this is fun to write!)) _

**Chapter 4: The Forming of the Fellowship **

Harry and Draco had never met anyone quite like Frodo's uncle Bilbo. Unlike most old people, with a few exceptions, Bilbo was actually cool. And Bilbo was delighted to have an audience who had never heard his tales before and was willing to listen.

They were walking through one of Rivendell's many gardens with Frodo, Sam and Bilbo, listening while the old Hobbit recounted his adventure with the Dwarves of many years ago.

"...And then Gollum says, 'Curse it! Curse the Baggins we hates it forever!' But I was already long gone. The old villain didn't dare go out where the Goblins might have caught him, even with the Ring..."

"Though a certain burglar didn't share the same caution." said a voice.

They turned to find Gandalf walking up the path towards them. Bilbo snorted. "Oh come on, Gandalf. I got out didn't I?"

"Yes, but not before ruining your favourite waistcoat, as I seem to recall you complaining many times about."

Bilbo chuckled. "Ah yes. Though it really was quite a nice waistcoat. But somehow, I get the feeling that is not what you came to discuss, old friend."

"Indeed not." said the Wizard. "The Council is about to start. I have come to collect you and Frodo. And you two as well." he added, looking at Harry and Draco.

They were taken aback. "Why us?" asked Draco.

"You will find that out soon enough. Now come."

They left, trying to keep up with Gandalf's long stride. Sam, trotted along behind them, forgotten for the moment.

* * *

The rest of the Council was seated when they arrived. 

Gandalf indicated where they should sit.

"Welcome, all." began Elrond. "Thank you for answering my summons upon such short notice. For those who have not met, allow me to introduce you in order. This is Strider of the Dunedain. Next to him is Glorfindel of Imladris, Boromir of Gondor, Gloin and his son Gimli of Erebor, Cirdan of the Grey Havens, Legolas son of Thranduil of Mirkwood, Gandalf the Grey of the White Council, Bilbo and Frodo Baggins of the Shire, and finally, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of the faraway land of England."

All eyes, it seemed, were on Harry and Draco, but Boromir was the only one to voice his opinions. "Forgive me, Lord Elrond, but who are these two children? I, for one, have never seen any like them. Nor have I heard of this 'England.' How do we know that they are not spies of the Dark Lord?"

Draco glared at him. "How do we know YOU aren't a spy?" he asked.

Boromir's ayes went wide. "Of all the cheek-"

"Be silent both of you." interrupted Elrond. "Boromir, I will vouch for Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. That should be enough for you. Now let us begin. Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The blue-eyed Hobbit got up slowly and set the Ring down on the pedestal in the center of the gathering. A murmur went through the Council. Harry's scar suddenly twinged as if a pins-and-needles hex had been placed on it.

Boromir stood and spoke slowly. "In a dream, I saw the Eastern Sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice cried out, 'The hour of doom is at hand, for Isildur's bane is found!' Isildur's bane..." He took a step towards the pedestal and put out his hand as if to take the Ring. Harry, seeing this, drew his wand, ready to cast 'Stupify,' but Gandalf beat him to the punch.

""ASH NAZG DURBATULUK, ASH NAZG GIMBATUL, ASH NAZG THRAKATULUK, AGH BURSUM-ISI KRIMPATUL!"

Harry's scar went nuts. He cried out and clutched at it. It burned just like whenever Voldemort was experiencing a strong emotion. The Elves too appeared to be in pain. They clasped their hands over their ears and squeezed their eyes shut. But as the echoing voice faded, so too did the pain.

"Never before has any voice dared utter the words of that tongue here in Imladris, Gandalf!" said Elrond sharply.

"I do not beg your pardon, Master Elrond," said Gandalf in a hoarse voice. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil!"

But Boromir wasn't finished. "No, it is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of my people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the Weapon of the Enemy! Let us use it against him!"

"Shut up." thought Harry. Only when he found everyone staring at him did he realize he had voiced this aloud.

"What did you just say to me, boy?" said Boromir dangerously.

Harry swallowed hard, but he wasn't about to back out now. "I said 'shut up.' I may not be from this land, but I know that whatever else this Ring may be, it's evil. Something built by evil can't be good."

"Be silent!" spat Boromir. "You have no idea what hardships my people have faced fighting back the Dark Lord. With this thing in our hands, we can overthrow him!"

"You cannot wield it!" said Strider suddenly. "None of us can. Not you, not even Gandalf or Elrond. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir looked at him as a Wizard might look at a disobedient House Elf. "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" he sneered.

Legolas shot to his feet. "This is no mere Ranger! He is Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Harry and Draco looked around confused.

"Aragorn?" said Boromir, not even trying to hide his contempt. "_This _is Isildur's Heir?"

"And heir to the Throne of Gondor." said Legolas proudly.

There was a moment of silence in which Boromir and Legolas simply stood glaring at each other. Harry and Draco exchanged a look. This was huge news. Strider, a King?

Aragorn broke the silence. "_Havo dad, Legolas._" he said. The Elf glanced at him and sat.

"Gondor has no King." said Boromir, giving Aragorn a look of contempt. "Gondor needs no King."

"Aragorn and Harry are right." said Gandalf. "We cannot use it."

"You have only one choice." said Elrond. "The Ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Draco. He drew his wand and pointed it at the Ring.

"Draco wait!" warned Elrond, but it was too late.

"_Reducto_!" A magical blast hit the Ring. There was suddenly a great flash, and when the smoke cleared, Draco was on the ground on his backside, looking shell-shocked. And yet, the Ring was still right where it had been, untouched.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Draco Malfoy, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mt. Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fires from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Sever long moments of silence followed before Boromir spoke up again. "One does not simply walk into Mordor." he said quietly. "It's black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever watchful. Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas again stood. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" erupted Gimli.

"And if you fail what then?" pressed Boromir. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" shouted Gloin, joining his son's cause.

That started it. Everyone except Aragorn, Elrond, the Hobbits, Draco and Harry began shouting. Harry just dropped his head into his hands. This was getting them nowhere. Suddenly, he heard a small voice next to him ."I will take it!" Harry looked with shock over at Frodo who was standing with a defiant look in his eyes. "I will take it!" he shouted louder. This time, it cut through the din of the crowd and everyone stopped to look at him. "I will take the Ring to Mordor...Though, I do not know the way."

A smile of enormous pride spread across Gandalf's face. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

He came over to stand behind the Hobbit.

Aragorn also stood and kneeled before Frodo. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." joined in Legolas.

Gimli grinned through his beard. "And my axe!"

Harry had no idea what came over him then, but he also stood. "And my wand!"

"Potter!" hissed Draco. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry ignored him. "You're going to need all the help you can get. Especially if the Wraiths show up again."

Draco stood with a scowl on his face and joined the group. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you want to help."

"Of course I don't want to help, Potter. But I'm not going to sit here rotting while you play hero."

Boromir stood and looked at Frodo. "You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

A cry of indignation went up from a bush near the platform where they sat. Sam jumped out and ran over to stand next to Frodo. "Mr. Frodo's not goin' anywhere without me!"

Despite his annoyance, Elrond smiled. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Oy! We're coming to!" Elrond whirled to find Merry and Pippin running up the path towards them. "You'll have to send us off tied up in a sack to stop us!" declared Merry.

"Anyways," chimed in Pippin. "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest...thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip." muttered Merry.

"Eleven companions." said Elrond. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

* * *

It was the night before they were to leave. 

Harry usually tried not to stay up this late, but this night, he couldn't sleep. So, he found himself wandering around a stand of pine-trees above Rivendell. At times like this, he truly found himself missing home. Certainly not Privet Drive. He would NEVER consider that home. Hogwarts was his home.

Up ahead, he heard voices. He recognized Aragorn's gruff voice and the regal tone of Elrond. They seemed to be having a rather heated discussion. He didn't want to intrude, but he was also curious to find out more about Aragorn.

"Our time here is ending." Elrond was saying. "Arwen's time is ending. Let her go. Let her take the ship into the West ere it will be evergreen."

"But never more than a memory." said Aragorn.

Elrond's face hardened. "I will not leave my daughter here to die!"

"She stays because she has hope-"

"She stays for you!" Elrond practically shouted. "She belongs with her people!"

Elrond seemed surprised at his own outburst. He appeared as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply walked away back towards Rivendell.

Aragorn sighed. "It's alright, Harry. You can come out."

Harry jumped at hearing his own name. He stepped out sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just out walking and I heard."

Aragorn shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He fell silent and gazed at what appeared to be an elaborate tombstone, topped with the statue of a woman holding a baby.

"What is that, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Harry after a moment.

"This is the memorial to my mother. After my father was cut down by Orcs, she brought me here. She died soon after and Lord Elrond raised me. I was happy for a time...Then I met Arwen..."

"Elrond's daughter." finished Harry.

Aragorn nodded. "It was, in fact, on this very spot. I came here often to think. Then, I saw her. She was walking in the moonlight. Growing up, I had never met her because she had always lived in Lothlorien. I thought I had strayed into a dream, her beauty was so great. Soon, I got enough courage to speak to her. And soon after that, we fell in love."

"I bet Elrond wasn't happy about that." said Harry.

"You can only imagine." said Aragorn. "But there was nothing he could do about it...Until now."

"Why does she have to leave?" asked Harry.

Aragorn smiled sadly. "All Elves must eventually leave for Valinor, their ancestral land or they will lose their immortality. Arwen pledged to me a few nights ago that she would choose a mortal life to be with me."

"Isn't that what you want?" asked Harry.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. It all seemed so clear before. True, my life always has been and always will be dangerous, but this quest could be more than even I can handle. If I should fall in battle, Arwen will not hear of it for a long time. And by then, it will be too late. The ships will have sailed and she will have to spend her days alone."

He fell silent for a while. Harry didn't know what to make of all this. Love was such a foreign concept to him.

"I can't do it." whispered Aragorn at last. "I cannot let her die here when she can go and live her life." He sighed. "Get some rest, Harry. We leave at sunrise."

* * *

Harry adjusted the sword which now hung from his belt for about the thousandth time. He still couldn't get used to carrying it's weight. He looked around at the rest of the Fellowship. Each was checking over their gear, making sure they had everything. 

A little while later, all of Rivendell came out to see them off. Elrond stepped forward.

"The Ringbearer is setting out upon the Quest of Mt. Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is layed to go further than you will. Good luck, and may the blessings of Elves, Men, and all Free Folk go with you."

"The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer." said Gandalf.

Frodo looked around once more at the Last Homely House west of the Misty Mountains. He would miss this place horribly. He straightened his pack on his shoulders and set off through the gate. "Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?" he whispered.

The Wizard smiled and tried not to chuckle. "Left."

Harry walked a little ways through the gate and suddenly noticed that someone had stayed behind. He turned back and saw Aragorn gazing at a woman in the crowd. Her eyes were pointed carefully downwards. The Ranger lowered his head and walked out. He didn't even say anything to Harry as he passed.

Harry gave Elrond a very frosty glare and he followed the Fellowship.


	5. I: The Ring Goes South

_((Sorry it's been longer than usual. Real life likes to pile on you all at once. This chapters a little longer to compensate. Please Read and Review! I don't own HP or LotR))_

**Chapter Five: The Ring Goes South**

_And life is a road that I want to keep going_  
_Love is a river I want to keep flowing  
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey...  
-Wonderful Journey_

_

* * *

_  
Harry took in a deep breath of the cold, clean air and gazed out over the vista spread before him. He had never seen anywhere quite so ruggedly beautiful in his life. To his left, the mountain range ,which Gandalf had identified as the Misty Mountains, stretched out of sight North and South. They had walked for nearly three days straight before they had finally been allowed to stop and take a proper rest.  
Harry glanced back at the camp to see what everyone else was doing. Boromir, who had taken it upon himself to look after Merry and Pippin, was teaching the two eager young Hobbits rudimentary swordplay. Aragorn was watching, offering the Hobbits occasional bits of advice such as, "Move your feet." Gandalf was perched atop a rock, smoking a long wooden pipe and contemplating their course. Legolas was serving as their unofficial sentry. Gimli was carefully sharpening his axe. Draco was airing out his and Harry's packs after it had been discovered that Eledan and Elrohir had given them a parting gift of extremely smelly rotten eggs. And Frodo and Sam were busy preparing supper for everyone.  
Gimli set down his axe and stood up. _'Uh oh.'_ thought Harry. _'He's about to start something.'_  
Sure enough, "If anyone were to ask for my opinion, (which, I note, they have not), I would guess that we were taking the long way 'round! Gandalf, we could pass through the mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome!"  
The Wizard's eyes widened slightly. "No, Gimli." he said in a haunted tone. "I will not take the road through Moria unless we have no other choice."  
"What's bad about it?" asked Harry.  
Gandalf shook his head. "I do not know for certain. All I know is that as we have drawn closer to the ancient City of Durin, my heart has darkened. That place is evil."  
Gimli opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a sharp cry of pain. Boromir's sword had slipped and had nicked Pippin's hand. He apologized profusely, only to be tackled to the ground by the two Hobbits. Everyone burst out laughing when Aragorn tried to break them up and was flipped onto his ass...Everyone that was, except Legolas. The Elf's fair brow was furrowed as he stared into the distance. Harry followed his gaze and saw there a dark cloud moving in their direction.  
"What in the name of Merlin is that?" he asked.  
"Just a cloud." said Draco, dismissively spooning some stew into his bowl.  
"It's moving fast," said Boromir. "Against the wind..."  
Suddenly, Legolas exclaimed, "Crebain from Dunland!"  
"Hide!" shouted Aragorn.  
The Fellowship sprang into action, hastily gathering up their supplies and diving under rocks and bushes.  
Harry looked up through the branches of the bush, which served as his hiding place, as a flock of big, black crows passed overhead. They circled a few times before flying back South.  
"Spies of Saruman." said Gandalf grimly. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!" he looked up at a towering peak which stretched up over the campsite.

* * *

Harry had long ago lost all feeling in his feet. Even heavy fur-lined boots Elrond had given to them could do little to keep out the cold's searching fingers.  
But he knew that the Hobbits probably had it worse. They had only the fur which grew on their feet to keep them warm.  
But of all the Fellowship, Legolas was the envy of all. He wore only a light tunic, leggings and boots. And to top it all off, he walked about on top of the snow as if he had snowshoes on.  
Harry was actually considering casting the lead-legs curse on him when Frodo let out a cry and fell a short ways down the mountain. He got up and began feeling frantically around his neck. He looked around, panicked. The Ring was gone! A short distance away, Harry spotted something gleaming in the snow. A hand picked it up by its thin silver chain.  
"Draco..." said Aragorn.  
Malfoy was holding the Ring, gazing longingly at it.  
"Draco!" repeated Aragorn more harshly. "Give the Ring to Frodo."  
The young wizard seemed to snap out of it. He slowly handed it back to Frodo. "Sorry." he muttered and walked away.  
Harry took his hand out of his robes, where he had been preparing to draw his wand. And if he had seen it, Aragorn also took his hand from his sword.

* * *

Saruman the White was overseeing the working of the forges in Isengard when his spies returned. One especially large one landed near him and croaked out his report.  
The traitorous wizard cracked a smile. "So Gandalf, you try to lead them over Caradhras. And if that fails, where then will you go? If the mountain defeats you, where then will you go? Will you risk the more dangerous road?"  
The Crow croaked something else and Saruman's head snapped back towards him. "What!" he asked enraged. He couldn't have heard that correctly. He stormed off to gaze into his Palantir.  
After all, the attempt had failed...hadn't it?

* * *

A fierce blizzard had kicked up within a matter of seconds. Draco was up to his chest in snow, and Aragorn and Boromir were having to carry the Hobbits. He and Harry had attempted to melt them a path with the _Incendio _spell, but it hadn't worked and now Gandalf was having to forge a path with his staff.  
Meanwhile, Legolas still seemed to be having no difficulty in walking across the top of the snow. He hopped over Draco's head and stepped out onto a ledge to listen. "There is a fell voice on the air!" he said.  
"It's Saruman!" howled Gandalf just as rocks and snow came hurtling down from above. The Fellowship pressed themselves against the mountainside just in time.  
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" yelled Aragorn.  
"Gandalf, we have to turn back!" added Harry.  
"No!" the Wizard insisted, climbing up to battle Saruman with his own words of power.  
Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the cliff above them, triggering an avalanche.  
Legolas pulled Gandalf back just in time to keep him from being thrown off the mountain.  
Draco covered his head as a ton of snow and ice fell down on top of him. He didn't know if it was simply the darkness or if he had blacked out, but the next thing he knew, Boromir was hauling him up out of the snow by the back of his cloak.  
"We must get off the mountain!" shouted the Man of Gondor. "Make for the Gap of Rohan or take the West Road to my city!"  
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" argued Aragorn.  
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it!" piped in Gimli. "Let us go through the Mines of Moria!"  
Gandalf's face grew grim. "Let the Ringbearer decide."  
Frodo looked up at him. Harry felt bad for him. He knew Frodo didn't like being the center of attention.  
"We cannot stay here. This will be the death of the Hobbits!" pleaded Boromir.  
"Frodo?" pressed Gandalf.  
"We will go through the Mines." said Frodo finally.  
"So be it." whispered Gandalf.

* * *

They began to make their way down the mountain, and as they did, the storm died down.  
Caradhras had defeated them.  
It was evening of the next day when they reached the area where Gandalf remembered an entrance to the Mines lay.  
"Frodo," called Gandalf from the front. "Come and help an old man."  
Frodo went up next to Gandalf.  
"How's your shoulder?" he asked nonchalantly.  
Frodo shrugged. "Better than it was."  
"And the Ring?" the Wizard said in a low voice. Frodo stopped and looked up at him. "You feel its power growing, don't you? I've felt it too. You must be careful. Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship. And, I fear, from within." he added, pausing as Draco walked past.  
"Who then do I trust?" asked Frodo. "You must trust in yourself, Frodo. Trust your own strength."  
Frodo knew there was a reason Gandalf was saying all this now. "What do you mean, Gandalf?"  
The Wizard sighed. "There are many powers in this world for good and for evil, Frodo. Some are greater than I am. And against some, I have not yet been tested.  
Suddenly, Gimli stopped and pointed. "The walls," he intoned dramatically, "of Moria!"

* * *

Harry was trying to concentrate on not slipping on the wet rocks...A task which was very hard with the stead sound of _Tap, Tap, Tap_ every few seconds. Finally, he could stand it no longer. "Merlin, Gimli, what are you doing!"  
The Dwarf tapped another place on the cliff wall. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." he explained.  
"Yes, Gimli." added Gandalf. "Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."  
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" muttered Legolas just loud enough for Gimli to hear. Harry suppressed a laugh at the Dwarf's sour expression.  
A few minutes later, they found a spot where two large trees appeared to have been deliberately placed. Gandalf ran his hands over the spot on the wall, muttering. "Ithildin... It mirrors only starlight and moonlight." He looked up and waved his hand in the air. Instantly, the clouds which had been obscuring the sky rolled away and a full moon shone down on them.  
Suddenly, glowing, pencil-thin lines appeared on the wall, forming strange symbols and pictures.  
Gandalf stood back, smiling at his discovery. He pointed to a series of runes etched across the top of the door. "It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter.'"  
"What the hell does that mean?" asked Draco.  
"It's quite simple." said Gandalf. "If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."  
He placed his staff in the middle of one of the symbols and spoke a complicated series of words.  
Everyone stepped back in anticipation and waited...and waited...  
Gandalf looked slightly put out but was not ready to give up. He spread his arms dramatically and tried another password. This worked about as well as the first.  
Pippin looked up at Draco. "Nothing's happening." he said.  
Draco rolled his eyes as if to say, 'Duh.'  
Gandalf meanwhile was pushing on the doors and running his fingers along them to see if he could find a seam.  
"I once knew every opening word in the tongues of Elves, Men, and Dwarves." he muttered.  
"What are you going to do then?" asked Pippin to which Gandalf sharply replied, "Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a few moments peace from silly questions, I will try to find the opening words!"

* * *

Two hours later, the Fellowship had given up standing ready to venture boldly into the dreaded Mines. Spirits were lower than they had been the entire journey. Someone, it seemed, had it in for them. First, going around the mountains had been foiled. Then, they had been forcibly stopped from going over the mountains. Now, even the least desirable road, leading under the mountains, was beyond their reach.  
Gandalf had gone through dozens of opening words, even trying '_Alohamora_' at Harry's suggestion, but none had worked. The Wizard now sat staring at the door, as if trying to bore into it with his eyes.  
Aragorn and Sam were saying a sad goodbye to Bill, their faithful pony who had been with them since Bree.  
Merry and Pippin had tried skipping stones on the lake before Aragorn had stopped them, warning them not to disturb the water.  
Suddenly, Frodo stood. "It's a riddle!" he exclaimed. "Speak friend and enter! What's the Elvish word for friend?"  
Gandalf looked up. "Mellon."  
With a loud crack, the doors swung open, revealing a dark passage beyond. The Fellowship gathered their belongings and followed Gandalf in.  
Gimli grinned up at Harry and Draco. "Soon, my young friends, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, and ripe meat off the bone!"  
Gandalf placed a crystal in the top of his staff and blew on it. A bright light emanated from it, illuminating the room in which they stood.  
Harry looked down at the shapes on the floor, no longer listening to Gimli.  
"This is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!"  
"This is no mine." said Boromir. "It's a tomb!"  
Everyone looked around. The floor was littered with skeletons. Legolas stooped by one and pulled out a black arrow. "Goblins!" he hissed. Everyone drew their weapons at once.  
"We make for the Gap of Rohan." said Boromir. "We should never have come here. Now get out of here. Get out!"  
Suddenly, Frodo screamed. Everyone whirled to find the Hobbit being dragged out the door by a long tentacle wrapped around his leg.  
Sam charged and hacked at it fiercely until it let go. But then, dozens more shot out of the water, knocking Sam, Merry and Pippin to the ground and again grabbing Frodo. A slimy head rose from the lake and opened its gaping jaws, ready to swallow him. But Aragorn, Boromir, Harry and Draco were ready.  
Aragorn and Boromir hacked the tentacles while Harry and Draco cast _Imobulus_ and hacked with their own swords. Aragorn suddenly made a lucky cut and Frodo tumbled down into Boromir's arms.  
The creature tried to grab him, but Legolas shot one of its beady eyes and it reared backwards, roaring.  
"Into the mines!" shouted Gandalf. He didn't have to ask twice. They all ran inside just as the creature ripped the doors apart in its rage, causing the entire entrance to collapse.  
For a few moments, they could hear only the sounds of each others' breathing. Then, two voices called out, "_Lumos_." Harry and Draco's wands lit up, casting eery shadows across the walls. Gandalf also lit his staff.  
"We now have but one choice." the Wizard said. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."  
He set off, up a staircase at the back of the room. Harry suddenly stumbled over a piece of stray armor. "Quietly now!" said Gandalf. "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

* * *

The mines were one of the creepiest places Harry had ever been. Everywhere, huge wheels and great forges sat silent. Rusted chains hung from the roof high above, swaying slightly every now and then even though there was not a breath of wind. Every once-in-a-while, they would have to cross wooden bridges over deep chasms. Each time, they would creak and groan ominously. Harry tried his best not to picture falling down those pits, never even seeing the bottom before he hit it.  
Gandalf tried to lighten the mood by explaining a bit of the history of the place. "The wealth of Moria," he was saying, "was not in gold or jewels, but Mithril." On this last word, he extended his staff out over a ledge. The sheer face of the wall suddenly appeared to be made of light. Everyone's jaws dropped open at this spectacle and Pippin even had to stop Merry from leaning out too far. Gandalf pulled the staff back and the light faded. "Bilbo had a set of Mithril chain-mail that Thorin gave to him."  
Gimli gasped. "That was a kingly gift!"  
Gandalf chuckled. "Yes. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."  
Harry nearly ran into Frodo who had stopped suddenly at these words. He wondered vaguely what had made the Hobbit do that.

* * *

Three days in, they arrived at a landing atop a long staircase and made a most distressing discovery. Gandalf was looking at the three doors before him with a look of great worry. "I have no memory of this place..." he said.  
The scene was much the same as it had been when Gandalf had been unable to discover the opening words for the door into Moria. Merry and Pippin were the only ones making any noise whatsoever, as they whispered, deciding whether or not Gandalf was truly lost.  
Harry leaned back against the wall and without meaning to, dozed off. He had a very strange dream in which he was walking through Hogwarts on his way to class. But the problem was, he couldn't remember which class he was going to and he didn't want to stop and ask because he was sure that someone was following him. Every time he turned a corner, he heard a flapping of feet behind him. He awoke with a start. He swiftly remembered where he was. He rubbed his eyes and looked back down the stairs. He did a double-take and rubbed his eyes again. He was sure for a moment that he had seen something in the darkness.  
Frodo looked at him. "Harry, are you alright?"  
Harry shook his head. "I must be seeing things. I thought I saw something moving down at the foot of the stairs a moment ago."  
Frodo's eyes went wide. "You did?" he asked sharply.  
Harry nodded. "I think so."  
Frodo glanced back down the stairs. "Since yesterday, I've been hearing the sounds of footsteps behind us. had nearly dismissed it as an echo but...Harry, your wand, shine it down there, quickly!"  
Harry pulled the wand from his robes and muttered, "_Lumos!_"  
A shaft of light stabbed out and illuminated a small grey creature which darted behind a fallen pillar.  
Harry and Frodo rushed up to Gandalf.  
"There's something down there!" said they said at once.  
The Wizard never shifted his gaze from the doors. "It's Gollum." he said.  
"Gollum?" asked Harry, confused for a moment. Then, he remembered. "The same Gollum from Bilbo's story? The one who had the Ring?"  
Gandalf nodded. "He's been following us for three days."  
A realization dawned on Frodo. "He escaped the dungeons of Barad Dur?"  
"Escaped," said Gandalf cryptically, "...or was set loose. Smeagol's life is a sad story. Yes," he said, seeing the looks of confusion on Harry and Frodo's faces. "Smeagol, he was once called. That was before the Ring took him. Before it drove him mad. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He will never be rid of his need for it."  
"It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance." spat Frodo.  
"Pity..." said Gandalf, looking at Frodo for the first time. "It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand."  
"But he deserves it, doesn't he? I mean he'd kill all of us if it meant getting the Ring back." said Harry.  
Gandalf nodded. "Deserve it? I daresay he does. But many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can either of you give it to them?" Harry and Frodo looked at each other. Gandalf had a very good point there. "Then do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum will have some part left to play before this is over."  
Frodo sighed and sat down, propping his chin up in his hand. "I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened."  
Harry felt a sudden kinship with the Hobbit. He too had a terrible burden on his shoulders which he had never asked for and wished every hour of every day that he didn't have to carry.  
"Frodo," he said. "Nobody asks for what life gives them. But when life isn't exactly what we want it to be, we have to accept that there's a reason for it and we can either let it destroy us or allow it to make us stronger."  
Gandalf smiled through his beard. "This is very wise council. All who live to see such times wish that they had not, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case, you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought...Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, causing everyone to look at him. He grinned, pointing down the lefthand passage. "It's that way!"  
"Finally, he's remembered." said Draco.  
"No," said Gandalf. "But the air down here doesn't smell so foul. If in doubt, Mr. Malfoy, always follow your nose."  
They followed the stairs down for a ways, finally coming out in an enormous cavern.  
"Let's risk a little more light, shall we?" he said, smiling at Draco and Harry. They removed their wands and said, "_Lumos Maxima!_" as Gandalf increased the light from his staff. The illumination revealed the most astounding thing any of them had ever seen. Behold," intoned Gandalf, "The great realm and Dwarf City of Dwarrowdelf!" They were in an immensely long hallway which seemed to have been tunneled right through the side of the mountain. Intricately carved pillars lined the hall and further in, windows high in the stone let in dazzling shafts of sunlight.  
"There's an eye-opener and no mistake." muttered Sam. "My Old Gaffer would have a thing or two to say if he could see this."  
Harry fervently wished that Ron and Hermione were there to see it. He knew that they would be as astounded as he was.

* * *

As they walked down the hall, Gimli kept looking at each door they passed. Suddenly, he cried out and ran for one of them.  
"Gimli!" called Gandalf, but the Dwarf was already through the door. The Fellowship followed and heard sobbing coming from inside. As they entered, they found Gimli knelt by a carved stone casket, weeping. Gandalf read the inscription across the top. "Here lies Balin, Son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It's as I feared." 


	6. I: The Bridge of Khazad Dum

_((Finally posted! I don't own hp or lotr)

* * *

Thinking of the day  
When you went away  
What a life to take  
What a bond to break  
I'll be missing you  
-_Missing You, P. Diddy

Gandalf suddenly handed Pippin his staff and hat and stooped to pick something up. He rose with a hugely thick book in his hands.

"We must move on," Legolas said to Aragorn. "We cannot linger." But Gandalf was already reading.

"They have taken the Bridge...and the Second Hall...The ground shakes...Drums...Drums in the deep...We cannot get out...A shadow moves in the dark...We cannot get out...They are coming."

Harry shivered as a chill went up his spine. He looked around at the Dwarven bodies littering the floor. They had died in terror.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the back of the room. Everyone turned to find Pippin staring at a now headless skeleton which sat perched on the lip of a well which, by the sounds of the crashing, was long since dry. His hand was incriminatingly stretched out towards an arrow which protruded from the skeleton's abdomen. He turned back to try and defend himself, but with a creak, the rest of the body fell backwards and made a tremendous racket on the way down. Pippin winced with every crash. When they had subsided, everyone stood silent, not moving, hardly even breathing. When nothing was heard for a moment, everyone let out the breaths they had been holding.

Gandalf snapped the book shut and snatched his staff and hat angrily. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity..." He was stopped by a deep _boom _from beneath their feet. Every eye turned back to the well. More booms followed by harsh cries echoed up from within its depths. Harry suddenly understood what they meant by 'Drums in the Deep.'

Frodo pulled Sting, his Elvish sword, from it's sheath. It was glowing blue.

"Orcs!" hissed Legolas.

Boromir ran to look out the door, but pulled back just as two black arrows struck right where his head had been. He slammed the door shut as a tremendous roar sounded from outside.

"They have a Cave Troll." he drawled. Legolas began passing them axes to wedge in.

"Stand back." said Harry. He aimed his wand. "_Colloportus_!"

"Will that keep them out?" asked Sam.

Harr shrugged. "Well, sort-of. They won't be able to open the door, but they can still destroy it."

Aragorn herded the Hobbits behind Gandalf and took up a position next to Legolas, both drawing their bows. Harry and Draco flanked them, holding their wands out in dueling positions.

Boromir took up a position opposite Gandalf while Gimli leapt atop the tomb itself, brandishing two axes nearly as tall as himself. "Let them come!" he said fiercely. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

Great crashes could soon be heard and the door shuttered. A spear broke through suddenly, only to fall back out as Legolas shot an arrow through the hole. He and Aragorn had their work cut out for them as they shot through every hole that was made. Then, with a crash, both doors fell in and Goblins leapt in.

"_Arania Exumai!_" shouted Harry, felling a Goblin.

Draco also sent one flying with "_Everte Statum!_"

But there were simply too many and they soon had to resort to their swords.

Harry soon lost himself in ducking, parrying and slashing. He was far from an expert sword-fighter, but he had been taught some in Rivendell and the Orcs seemed to have little or no training. Draco, meanwhile, was in his element and grateful for the first time for the fencing lessons his father had forced him to take. Though the sword he used was thicker and heavier than a foil, the same basic principals still applied.

A loud roar from outside drew their attention. A massive Cave Troll smashed its way through the door and charged. Legolas caused it to give slight pause by sticking two arrows in it, and it was slowed slightly by spells from Draco and Harry, but still it charged. It swung its massive club down at Sam who dove between its legs. It turned and lifted a foot to step on the Hobbit, but Aragorn and Boromir grabbed the chain around its neck and pulled. It tripped backwards a bit and swung around. Aragorn let go of the chain, but Boromir was too slow. He was snapped across the room, hit the far wall, and landed with a thud. He shook his head trying to clear the stars from his vision and found a Goblin standing over him with its sword raised. He felt around for his own weapon, but found that he had dropped it.

Harry saw this and spotted the sword laying near the tomb. He pointed his wand at it. "_Waddiwasi!_" The sword flew through the air and lodged in the Goblin's neck.

Harry grinned at Boromir and went back to fighting.

If the Troll had concentrated on taking each of them out in turn, then the day might have gone badly for the Fellowship. But it kept switching targets whenever it saw someone new. It had attempted to use its chain as a whip on Legolas (a very foolish mistake) and now, it was going after the Hobbits. Frodo, Merry and Pippin all dove in different directions as the Troll smashed the ledge upon which they stood. It looked to each Hobbit, finally settling on Frodo.

The Hobbit confused it for a moment, ducking around pillars, but was soon caught.

Draco saw it raising its club to smash Frodo. Later, he could never figure out what awoke in him, but with a fierce war cry, he leapt in and began shooting stunning spells at the beast.

Unfortunately, if he had really cared to pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he would have remembered that Trolls are even more spell-resistant than Giants. Thus, the only thing he accomplished was making it drop its club. Merry and Pippin also decided to start throwing Rocks at that moment, just making the gargantuan beast angry. Draco raised his wand again, but then, out of nowhere, something massive hit him. He flew across the room and when he landed, there was a distinct _Snap_!

Frodo dashed over to see if Draco was alright. Suddenly, a spear lodged into the wall right over his head. He tried too late to run. With a powerful thrust, the Troll drove the spear straight into Frodo's chest. His cry echoed throughout the chamber. All of the members of the Fellowship stopped what they were doing and gaped. Frodo slumped to the ground with one last moan.

Enraged, Merry and Pippin leapt atop the Troll's head and began hacking at its skull.

Gandalf Gimli Aragorn and Boromir all took turns slicing at its soft belly.

Harry ran up beside Legolas who had and arrow set to the string but was not firing.

"What are you doing? Shoot!" said Harry.

"Not yet. I am waiting for it to open its mouth. That may be its only weak point."

Harry suddenly had an idea. He drew his wand. "_Conjunctivitis_!" he shouted. A thin wisp of magic hit the troll in the face, and for a moment, nothing happened. But an instant later, it began clutching its eyes and roaring furiously.

Legolas seized his opportunity and put an arrow through its mouth as it roared again.

The Troll brought a hand up to feel the arrow that was now sticking up through his head before toppling over dead.

Aragorn ran over and knelt beside Frodo's prone form.

"Oh no." he whispered. He rolled the Hobbit over, and to everyone's shock, Frodo gasped for air.

"He's alive!" cried Sam, nearly in tears of joy.

"I'm alright," gasped Frodo. "I'm not hurt."

"Not hurt?' said Harry. "You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a Hippogriff!"

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." said Gandalf smiling.

Frodo pulled back his shirt to reveal a beautiful coat of silver mail.

"Mithril!" marveled Gimli. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.

Suddenly Harry remembered. "Where's Draco? Is he alright?"

"I'm just spiffing, Potter. Thanks for remembering me." said a very disheveled looking Draco as he climbed up from the floor across the room. He began looking around and suddenly gave a cry of dismay. He picked up the two halves of his broken wand.

"It's ruined!" he cried.

Suddenly, cries could be heard outside the door.

"To the Bridge of Kazhad Dum!" said Gandalf.

Harry had to practically drag Draco out of the room.

As they sprinted across another vast hall, Harry looked back and saw hundreds of Goblins pouring out from cracks in the walls and the floor and even the ceiling. Everyone was going as fast as their feet would carry them, but it made no difference. They all ground to a halt when they saw the wall of Goblins which had come around to cut them off. They were completely surrounded. The only thing holding the Goblins off was the light from Harry's wand and Gandalf's staff. Gimli roared as menacingly as he could...and to Harry's utter shock, it worked. The Goblins stopped howling and looked extremely frightened. All at once, they disappeared into the holes they had come from. Gimli laughed fiercely.

Only then did Harry see it.

A fiery light was moving slowly towards them from the next row of pillars.

"What is this new devilry?" asked Boromir.

Gandalf closed his eyes and bent his will towards the thing. A moment later, he opened them with a look of terror spreading across his face. "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world."

Legolas gasped. "A Balrog? This is an evil turn."

"Durin's Bane..." said Gimli, shaking with fear.

Even Harry, Draco and the Hobbits who had no clue what a Balrog was knew that anything that scared Gandalf had to be bad.

"This foe is beyond any of you." said the Wizard. "Run!"

If they had thought they were running when the Goblins were after them, that was nothing compared to what they were doing now. Harry felt a horrible stitch forming in his side, but he ignored it and kept running.

The whole mountain seemed to be shaking around them every time the Balrog roared.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall and ducked down through a narrow staircase. At the bottom, Gandalf stopped to gasp for breath. Aragorn ran back to check on him, but Gandalf grabbed his shoulder. "Lead them on, Aragorn. The Bridge is near." Aragorn stared at him for a moment before looking back up the stairs, as if contemplating facing the Balrog. Gandalf shoved him back. "Do as I say! Swords are of no more use here!"

Aragorn obeyed him then and led the Fellowship down a narrow winding staircase. To fall off either side would be a plunge down into what looked like Hell itself. All of a sudden, there was a sizable gap in the stairs. Legolas leapt lightly across, but the others weren't so keen.

"Gandalf!" prodded the Elf, holding out his arms.

Gandalf took a deep breath and jumped across. An arrow suddenly hit the ground right where the Wizards had been a moment before. Legolas and Aragorn drew their bows and began felling the Goblins across the chasm who seemed to have gotten their courage back. Draco took his chance and jumped. Boromir then grabbed Merry and Pippin and leapt across, taking a chunk of the stairs with him. The gap was getting almost too wide to jump. Aragorn hefted Sam up and tossed him across into Legolas' arms. He reached down to grab Gimli but the Dwarf said, "Nobody tosses a Dwarf!" With a cry, Gimli sprang across. He was only saved from falling to his death by Legolas who reached out and grabbed hold of... "Not the beard!" Suddenly, there was a loud crack and Aragorn only shoved Harry and Frodo aside and jumped back himself before the chunk of stairs they had been on gave way. They stood and gazed in dismay. The gap was too large now even for Aragorn to toss them across. As if to add insult to injury, a great chunk of the ceiling fell and broke the stairs behind them.

"Hold on!" shouted Aragorn as the pillar they stood on began to sway.

Harry suddenly had an idea. "Lean forward!"

Aragorn and Frodo obeyed and as Harry had planned, the pillar toppled forward and they fell into the waiting arms of the Fellowship.

Not even daring to rest, they sprinted the rest of the way down the stairs and emerged in another long hall. At its end, they could just see a long, narrow bridge.

"Over the bridge!" shouted Gandalf. "Fly!"

Suddenly, a wall of flame leapt up behind them and out of it came a great black shape. It seemed to be made of nothing but shadow and flames. Great black wings filled the hall behind it and it carried a flaming sword. It roared, shaking the room and charged. The Fellowship ran down the hall and across the bridge. All except for Gandalf who stopped in the middle and turned back. "You cannot pass!" he yelled.

"What the hell is he doing?" said Draco. "Has he gone mad? He can't fight that thing."

Frodo cried out the Wizards name, but stood rooted in place.

The Balrog considered Gandalf as if he were a bug. It suddenly stood tall and burst into flame.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire," said Gandalf, raising his staff. "Wielder of the Flame of Anor!" a sphere of light seemed to envelop him. "The Dark Fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"

The Balrog roared and brought its sword down on the Wizard. There was a great flash and it leapt back, its sword crumbling into molten fragments. Gandalf had not moved an inch. The Balrogs flame seemed to diminish, but the shadow grew. "Go back to the shadow!" Gandalf shouted. A flame appeared in the Balrog's hand and came together to form a great whip. Gandalf raised his staff high in the air. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" He brought the staff down on the bridge so hard that it broke in his hand. Nothing seemed to happen, which lead Harry to believe that whatever the Wizard had been trying to do, it hadn't worked. The Balrog seemed to think the same thing. It snorted and leapt full onto the bridge. With a great crash, the bridge broke and the Balrog fell roaring into the abyss. Gandalf turned to go back to the fellowship, but at the last moment, the whip snapped up and curled about his knees. He was dragged to the very edge, where he clung on for dear life. Something went past Harry suddenly, and he had to grab Frodo to keep him from running to the bridge. He screamed Gandalf's name.

Gandalf gazed at Frodo sadly. "Fly you fools!" he cried and lost his grip.

Frodo screamed in horror as Gandalf fell out of sight into the black abyss.

Everyone stood, gazing in horror. Boromir picked Frodo up and called out to them. Harry came out of his daze and followed the Fellowship. Only Aragorn had stayed behind, still staring, mouth open. "Aragorn!" shouted Harry, bringing the Ranger out of his daze. He ran after them, just as Goblin Arrows fell where he had been standing. They ran numbly up some stairs and out into the blinding sun.

The Fellowship didn't stop until they were well out of bowshot from the door.

Merry held a sobbing Pippin, who was no-doubt blaming himself for revealing their presence in the first place. Sam had sunk down onto a rock with tears streaming down his face. Boromir was holding back Gimli who was screaming and trying to charge back into the Mines. Legolas was staring at the ground, as if in shock. Even Draco had his head sunk into his hands.

Harry was much the same as Legolas. He couldn't believe what had happened. Gandalf was just...gone.

Aragorn, after a moment, said, "Legolas, get them up."

"Give us a moment you heartless son of a bitch!" shouted Draco.

Aragorn glared at him. "By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the Woods of Lothlorien. Come Boromir, Harry. Gimli, get them up." He hauled Sam to his feet. "On your feet, Sam." He looked around. "Frodo?" he called.

Harry looked up and saw the young Hobbit walking away from them. He held a hand up to Aragorn who was about to go after him.

Harry walked slowly to his side. Frodo looked up at him and after a moment, buried his face in the young wizard's robes, sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

It was just beginning to get dark when they crossed into the forest. Harry instantly felt as if time had stopped. The place felt as if it were incredibly old and yet, completely unchanged.

"Stay close young Hobbits!" hissed Gimli. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf Witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell...And are never seen again."

Frodo suddenly jerked as if slapped. He looked around wildly and a moment later, Harry knew why.

"_Harry Potter.._." said a voice. It had spoken inside his head. "_Boy Who Lived and child of Hogwarts. Be not afraid. We shall meet soon._"

Harry glanced at Draco, but he gave no sign that he had heard the voice.

"Well," Gimli was saying. "Here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox...Oh!" He stopped suddenly, nearly running into the arrow pointed at his head. They found that they were suddenly surrounded. Harry went to draw his wand, but Aragorn stopped him. One of the Elves who was clearly the leader stepped forward. "The Dwarf breathes so loudly, we could have shot him in the dark."

"Haldir of Lorien," said Aragorn. "We are in need of your help."

Gimli was standing still as a statue, but he said, "Aragorn, these woods are perilous! We should go back..."

Haldir stuck his chest out. "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back." He looked at each of the Fellowship in turn, his brow furrowing slightly when he saw Harry and Draco, but when he at last came to Frodo, he gasped and said, "You bring great evil with you... You can go no further."

* * *

The Elves had led them to a place where they had platforms set up in the trees. Aragorn seemed to be pleading with Haldir in Elvish while the Fellowship rested. There was no other sound besides Aragorn and Haldir. The Fellowship was still thinking on Gandalf's death and wondering what would become of them without their leader. Harry suddenly saw Draco get up and go over to Frodo.

"Frodo, I know how you must feel." he said. "But Gandalf died to save us. His death wasn't in vain. The burden you carry is a heavy one. Don't go and carry the weight of the dead on top of that."

Harry wondered what was with Draco's sudden soft side, but he couldn't wonder for long because Haldir suddenly stomped towards them. "You will follow me." he said shortly.

They descended from the platform and walked a little ways into the woods. After about an hour, Haldir stopped and faced them. "Here, we must stop for a moment. We have entered the Naith of Lorien. We allow no strangers to view our secrets, so I will blindfold Gimli Son of Gloin."

Gimli's eyes went wide. "Over my dead body!" he cried.

"Oh, the stubbornness of Dwarves!" said Legolas, throwing his hands in the air.

Haldir's face hardened. "If need be. No strangers may walk unblindfolded in our land and since we have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days,-"

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that?" growled Gimli. _"Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!_"

Aragorn pursed his lips and grabbed the Dwarf roughly by the shoulder. "THAT was not no courteous!"

"Alright shut up!" shouted Harry suddenly. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "We're getting nowhere standing here arguing. We'll ALL go blindfolded."

Gimli sighed. "Well, I will concede if Legolas is blindfolded as well."

The Elf laughed shortly. "I am an Elf and kinsman here!"

"Now may we cry a plague on the stubbornness of Elves!" said Aragorn. "Harry is right. ALL of us will go blindfolded."

The Elves produces cloth strips which they tied around the eyes of the Fellowship. Harry heard Draco say, "If I trip or run into anything, I'll stick that bow up your arse!"

And so the Fellowship set off, blind, into the Woods of Lothlorien.

* * *

After sever hours, the Elves removed the blindfolds. Haldir beckoned them forward. Spread out before them was what looked to be almost a separate forest inside Lothlorien. Only these trees were massively tall and had golden bark which seemed to shimmer in the sun. "Caras Galadhon," said Haldir with a smile of pride. "The heart of Elvendom on Earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." 


	7. I: The Mirror of Galadriel

_((Sorry it's been some time since I updated. I've been fantastically busy. But here it is.)) _

_((I don't own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings))

* * *

_

Caras Galadhon was, by far, the most beautiful place Harry had ever seen. The trees were as tall as Muggle skyscrapers and shone with a warm golden light. Haldir told him that they were called Mallorn Trees and that they had come from the ancestral home of the Elves, far across the sea. Nestled in the trees were houses built in the same design as Rivendell. Though it appeared that not even a twig had been moved to make way for their construction. They harmonized perfectly with nature.

Haldir led the Fellowship up a staircase which wound upwards around what seemed to be the largest of the Mallorn Trees. At the top was an elaborately constructed building hung with silver lanterns.

Haldir instructed the Fellowship to wait in what Harry supposed was a sort of lobby. He wondered briefly if they would be kept waiting, like at a doctor's office, but his question was answered when what looked to be two beings made of pure light stepped out at the top of the stairs in front of them. As they got closer, the light seemed to move aside to reveal them. The first was an Elven man with platinum hair, even more lustrous than Draco's on his best day. He had steely gray eyes and a noble jaw. The second was a lady with shining golden hair and stunning, deep blue eyes.

Harry, Gimli and the Hobbits all gazed upon the Lady Galadriel with mouths hanging open. Aragorn and Legolas gave very respectful bows. Only Boromir and Draco did not seem spellbound by her. Both looked upon her with heavy mistrust in their eyes.

Celeborn drew them out of their reverie. "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone..." here, he trailed off and looked around the group. His brow furrowed. "Ten there are here, yet eleven set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Harry noticed that Galadriel was staring intently at Aragorn and the Ranger sighed and lowered his eyes.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land..." she said. Her voice like music. "He has fallen into shadow."

Celeborn's eyes widened, and he gazed at Galadriel, but her eyes were still staring at Aragorn and were now filled with tears.

Harry plucked up his courage. "We were running from Goblins when a giant demon overtook us. Gandalf stood on the Bridge of Khazad Dum and bought us time to escape. He threw it into the abyss, but it took him with it."

Celeborn leaned forward. "A great demon, you say?"

"Aye." said Legolas. "It was both shadow and flame: A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Galadriel smiled sadly at him. "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad Dum fill your heart, Gimli, Son of Gloin," she said as her gaze fell on the Dwarf. "For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief..." she fell silent and fixed her stare on Draco. The young wizard tried to meet her gaze, but within a few seconds, tears welled up in his eyes and he looked away.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." said Celeborn.

"Indeed," said Galadriel. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." For a reason he could not explain, she stared at Harry as she said this. Finally, she looked away. Harry could not shake the feeling that she had been looking inside his mind. She smiled as she looked upon Sam. "Yet hope remains, while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace."

The Fellowship bowed to them and prepared to follow Haldir.

But at the last moment, Harry again heard Galadriel's voice inside his mind.

_I will summon you soon, Boy Who Lived. Be ready to heed my call.

* * *

_

The Elves conceded to allow the Fellowship to sleep on the ground at the Hobbits request, although, it was clear that they thought this very odd. They brought bedding and pillows which seemed more comfortable to Harry, (who had been forced on the quest to find the softest bit of ground he could to sleep on), than his four-poster at Hogwarts ever had.

But he was not ready to sleep yet. He simply laid back and stared up at the stars, twinkling through the trees. He almost fancied that they were singing. Wait...They _were_ singing. As he watched, the stars wheeled overhead and seemed to move closer to him. As they did, their shapes were revealed. Some looked like Galadriel and Elrond and Celeborn; great lords and ladies with grim and beautiful faces. Some more closely resembled Dwarves; short, yet with strong arms and legs. Yet still, others even seemed to resemble Hobbits, with cheery faces and plump bellies. All of them were singing. Not in English, or even in Elvish. Harry could never have described what the language was. But as beautiful as it was, nobody was singing the same thing. It was fractured and disjointed. Then one, the greatest and lordliest of them, raised his voice above theirs, and soon, they sang with him. Everything seemed to start swirling around him then, and the figures became indistinct. But even as they faded, the great one looked Harry right in the eyes.

He awoke with a start. He was still in Lothlorien and the stars were not singing, but music still filled the air. Every Elven voice seemed to be raised in a slow, mournful song.

Legolas was standing nearby, listening. "A lament for Gandalf." he said.

"What do they say about him?" asked Merry.

Legolas smiled sadly. "I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near."

Frodo was the first of the Fellowship put any words of sorrow to song.

_When evening in the Shire was grey,  
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;  
before the dawn, he went away  
on journey long without a word._

_From Wilderland to Western shore,  
from northern waste to southern hill,  
through dragon-lair and hidden door  
and darkling woods he walked at will_.

_With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,  
with mortal and immortal folk,  
with bird on bough and beast in den,  
in their own secret tongues he spoke._

_A deadly sword, a healing hand,  
a back that bent beneath its load;  
a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,  
a weary pilgrim on the road._

_A lord of wisdom throned he sat,  
swift in anger, quick to laugh;  
an old man in a battered hat  
who leaned upon a thorny staff._

_He stood upon the bridge alone  
and Fire and Shadow both defied;  
his staff was broken on the stone  
in Khazad Dum, his wisdom died._

Frodo fell silent and stared at the ground.

"I think you'll be beating Mr. Bilbo next," said Sam.

"No, I am afraid not." said Frodo. "I cannot talk of it anymore. I can't bear to think of bringing the news to him."

Harry did not hear any more, because he noticed that of the Company, one was not resting.

He got up and walked over to Draco who was staring off into the woods.

"Draco, why don't you come and rest?" he said. "Aragorn said that this place is very well protected."

Draco sighed. "I'm not going to find any rest here. I heard her voice in my head, Harry. She talked about my father and everything he expects of me. She said that even now there is hope. She said I don't have to become him. But she doesn't understand. I want to make him proud to have me as his son. But..."

"But you don't like doing what it takes to make him proud." Harry finished, looking at his old nemesis in a new light.

Draco nodded. "I don't suppose you could imagine what it's like, having someone like him as a father. He gives me everything I want, but I know it's all conditional. If I ever became something different than what he expects of me, he'd chuck me out, disown me. You think I hate Muggle Borns, Harry? Why should I? But my father tells me to hate them, so I act like I do. I don't even want to be in Slytherin. I hate it there. I hate the people. Each and every one of them would stab me in the back if it would get them something they wanted. But I put up with it because of my father. You're lucky, you know, living with those awful Muggles."

Harry snorted. "Lucky? They hate me. They hate everything about me."

"Yes, but they will hate you no matter what you do, so you don't have to work your ass off to please them. You don't have to lose any chance of having a real friend your entire life, just so you can stay in their house. You can do whatever you want and it won't make a lick of difference."

"But you have friends. Crabbe and Goyle-"

"Are goons." Draco cut in. "They don't give a damn about me. They see me as a way to stay popular. Everyone's afraid of my father, so they are forced to respect me. But I don't have a single friend." They both fell silent and gazed out into Lorien.

The singing had stopped, and up in the trees, the silver lanterns were beginning to dim up in the trees.

* * *

Here they are, once enemies. Once, not to be caught dead having any kind of conversation with each other. Is it the beauty of Lorien that has changed them? Is it the realization of mortality, having lost someone very recently? Or is it a combination of everything happening around them?

The glowing embers of friendship are being stirred.

But even as they are, something dark festers within the soul of one of the two. A burning desire for a tiny golden ring. No matter how he tries to think of other things, it is always there, like a splinter in his mind; oh so slowly driving him mad.

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep after his conversation with Draco. Too much was going through his mind. This place, this Middle Earth, was so different from Hogwarts. Everything that had seemed so clear there was now blurring into shades of gray. He wondered what Ron and Hermione would say if he told them that he had just had a meaningful conversation with Draco Malfoy.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone walking across the lawn ahead of him.

The Lady Galadriel seemed almost to glide. She didn't even look in his direction, but he knew she was calling him. Slowly, he followed her. She disappeared down a stone staircase and still he followed. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found he was in a deep green hollow. In the middle of it was a low pedestal carved like a branching tree. Upon the pedistal was a shallow silver basin. Galadriel took a silver pitcher and dipped it into a stream of water. She turned and emptied the pitcher into the basin.

At last, she looked at Harry.

"Here is the Mirror of Galadriel." she said. "I have brought you here so that you might look in it, if you will."

Harry, who instantly remembered the Mirror of Erised, knew that she didn't mean just any regular mirror.

"What will I see?" he asked.

"Many things, I can command the mirror to reveal," she answered. "and to some, it shows what they desire to see. But the Mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than the things we wish to behold. What will you see if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, things that are, and some things...that have not yet come to pass. Do you wish to look?"

Harry swallowed hard. He knew that this wasn't to be taken lightly. But in the end, he nodded to Galadriel.

"Then step up and look in." she said. "Do not touch the water."

Harry stepped up on the pedestal and gazed into the dark water. At first, all he saw was his own reflection and the stars above. Then, the water seemed to shimmer and when it resolved, he found himself looking at what was unmistakably Hogwarts in the winter. He saw Hagrid trudging across the snow, dragging a huge Christmas tree. Also coming into view were two students, one with boshy brown hair and the other with bright red.

_"Hi Hagrid."_ said Ron, though his voice sounded distant to Harry.

_"A'righ' you two?"_ asked Hagrid, obviously trying to sound cheerful, but somewhat failing.

Hermione nodded, and Harry could see that tears were in her eyes.

_"I know."_ said Hagrid. _"I miss 'im too."_

Harry had the sudden realization that they meant him.

The mirror shimmered again, and he saw Sirius sitting next to Buckbeak the Hyppogriff. His eyes were very red and he appeared gloomier than Harry had ever seen him. There was a soft knock on the door and Lupin entered.

_"Hello, Sirius."_ he said.

Sirius didn't answer.

_"Padfoot, you have to come down. Everyone is worried sick about you. You haven't eaten in days. Starving yourself won't bring him back."_

_"What would you know about it?"_ said Sirius, his voice cracking and tears welling up in his eyes. _"James was like my brother and I lost him. Then, I found a son in Harry and now, he's gone too."_

Once again, the imaged wavered and he was looking again at Hogwarts. Only this wasn't Hogwarts as he had ever seen it. On every parpet and balcony and terrace, and in every window, there were wizards with wands at the ready and even Muggles with guns. The reason for this state was obvious. A seething black mass of Orcs was marching up through the Forbidden Forest towards the castle. At the head of the army were Death Eaters atop black horses. Swooping over their heads were more Dementors than Harry had ever seen in one place. But the most terrible part of the army rode at the head. Two tall figures. The first, a tall black-cloaked figure atop a massive black horse. Atop his head was a helm of cruel steel. The second, a man with a face like a snake and red slits for eyes. The Wraith raised his sword and Voldemort raised his wand. The mirror wavered again and the next scene was of Hogwarts in flames. He looked in horror as Gryffindor tower fell in on the rest of the school. Harry saw Ron and Hermione trying to flee, but even as they did, a Ringwraith rode them down.

"NO!" Harry shouted, throwing himself away from the mirror.

He landed, breathing as if he had just run a marathon.

"So you understand now." said Galadriel.

Harry jumped. He had forgotten she was there.

"If Frodo fails, not only Middle Earth is doomed. Sauron knows of your home. He has sensed what you call magic and hates it. And should he ever reach your world, he will ally with the one you fear. You will face a difficult choice, Harry Potter. Frodo must complete his quest. Very soon, you will have to choose between what is right and what causes you no pain."

* * *

Harry didn't think he would sleep after that, but to his surprise, he dropped off instantly. Again, he dreamt of the beings singing, and again, the great lord looked him in the eyes. 


	8. I: The Stormclouds Gather

_((Voila! Nice new chapter.))_

_((I don't own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings.))_

* * *

**The Stormclouds Gather **

Saruman the White smiled cruelly. His plans were going perfectly. Rohan was caught under his thumb and ready to fall, Fangorn Forest was burning without a peep out of the Ents, and now, his first battalion of Fighting Uruk-Hai was ready. To test them out, he had a simple mission which he was currently giving to them.

"Hunt them down! Do not stop until they are found!" he shouted. "You do not know pain, you do not know fear. You will taste man-flesh!"

The army roared in approval.

Saruman turned to his lieutenant, Lurtz, the largest, foulest, and most evil of the Uruk-Hai.

"One of the Halflings carries something of great value. Bring them to me alive...and unspoiled. Also, bring to me the child with dark hair. Kill the others."

* * *

The week which the Fellowship spent in Lorien was one of the best of the entire quest.

Draco and Boromir finally seemed to let their guards down around the Elves and it was a much happier time for it.

Harry was busy learning a lot more about swordplay and archery in his spare time while Aragorn discussed the path ahead with Celeborn. Galadriel had not shown herself again. When Harry asked Haldir one day where the Lady was, the Elf simply smiled and said, "She and her handmaidens are preparing for your departure."

The Elves were also very keen on hearing about Hogwarts and the adventures he had there. He and Draco also amazed them with various spells. Harry's Patronus, especially, was very popular.

* * *

Their final day dawned bright and clear, but it could do nothing to cheer their heavy hearts. Haldir led them out of Caras Galadhon and down to the banks of the Silverlode. There waiting were five white boats.

A group of Elves, including Haldir and Celeborn approached them. Each carried a folded bundle of cloth.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," said Celeborn, "but never before has there been a quest as grave as the one you all set upon." He held out the bundle to reveal that it was a cloak made of a grey material which the eye couldn't quite seem to catch properly. The Elves fastened them around the necks of the Fellowship. "These cloaks were made by the Lady Galadriel and her handmaidens. May they help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

As they packed the boats, Haldir again summoned them up a short ways into te woods. There, they found Galadriel and her handmaidens. Each maiden carried something in their hands. One at a time, Galadriel took an item and turned to a member of the Fellowship. First was Legolas.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." she handed him an elegantly carved bow which was clearly made of Mallorn wood.

Second, she turned to Boromir. "For you, Boromir, Son of Denethor, a belt of gold. Wear it with pride and may the White City live on and grow to its splendor and might as in the days of old."

She came to Merry and Pippin then and handed them short knives elaborate sheaths. "These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war. Do not fear, young Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck. You will both find your courage."

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee, little gardener and lover of trees, here is a box of earth from my own garden and such a blessing as I have still to bestow upon it. It will not protect you from peril, but should you return to your home, there, it may reward you. If you sprinkle this earth in your garden, few in the world will flower like yours."

Sam's ears went red like Ron's always did and he bowed so low that he nearly fell over.

She next came to Draco. "For you, Draco Malfoy, to replace the one which was lost to you." she held out a gilded box. Draco opened it to find, to his shock, a new wand. "Made of Mallorn Wood with the light of ancient Silmarils at its core." she explained. "This wand will not break, and if you should lose it, it will never fail find its way back into your hand."

"And for you, Harry Potter, I have but a small gift which will nonetheless, serve you well. Remove your glasses." Harry obeyed her and took them off. She placed one hand over his eyes and began speaking in Elvish. A few moments later, she removed her hand, and Harry instinctively put his Glasses back on. But something was wrong. Everything was blurry. He wondered if they had fogged up, but he found that when he removed them again, his vision was clear.

"Th-Thank you, m'lady." He gasped.

She smiled and moved on to Gimli. "And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

"Nothing." he muttered, his face down. He cleared his throat a few times before adding, "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadrim one last time. For she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." She laughed warmly at this and actually seemed to blush slightly. Gimli, on the other hand, turned beet-red and cleared his throat once more.

"Actually, there was one thing...But no...It's quite impossible...Stupid to even ask."

He wouldn't tell Galadriel what it was until she allowed him to whisper it in her ear. She laughed and turned away for a moment and when she turned back, she handed him something that none of the others could see.

When she came to Aragorn, she said, "I have nothing greater to give than the gift you already bear." They spoke in Elvish for a while after that. Harry saw her touch Arwen's pendant which still hung about Aragorn's neck and he guessed that they were talking about her. Finally, she moved on to the last in the line.

"Farewell, Frodo Baggins." she said. "I give you the light of Earendil, our most beloved star." she handed him a glass phial of shimmering liquid. "May it be a light for you in dark places, wen all other lights go out."

Frodo took the gift in awe and looked up at her. The words of thanks would not form in his throat, but he knew she understood. She bent down and kissed his forehead.

She then smiled at the whole Fellowship.

"_Limaira_. I give you all my blessing of hope and good fortune."

The boats were nearly ready to launch. The Elves were loading in the last of the provisions.

Legolas was showing Harry the Bow of the Galadhrim.

"Feel how light it is. I have never seen such craftsmanship." the Elf said.

They suddenly caught sight of Gimli sitting on a stump with an extremely gloomy expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Gimli?" asked Harry. "Someone die?"

The Dwarf sighed. "No, unless it be my heart. I have taken my worst wound at this parting. For I have looked my last on that which I deem fairest of all the things in this world. Henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"And what was her gift?" asked Legolas curiously.

Gimli got a faraway look in his eyes. "I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three. Should I survive this quest to return home, I will encase them in a diamond from the heart of the Mountain."

Harry and Legolas had to fight not to burst into laughter. It wasn't that they thought Gimli to be foolish. But hearing this gruff Dwarf speaking like a true romantic was very funny.

They came to the boats and found Merry and Pippin looking very contented for some reason.

"What's with you two?" asked Harry.

They just shrugged and tried to look innocent.

Harry and Legolas exchanged looks but said nothing. Legolas began loading parcels into the boats. He stopped and unwrapped one. Inside was some kind of cake wrapped in a mallorn leaf.

"Lembas!" the Elf exclaimed. He bit off a tiny corner. "Elvish waybred! One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

Merry and Pippin nodded, attempting to look interested.

Making sure Legolas was out of earshot, Harry asked, "Alright, let's have it. How many have you two eaten?"

"Four." said Pippin. Merry nodded. "Me too."

Harry laughed and shook his head.

* * *

The journey by river turned out to be even more arduous than the journey on foot. The boats were set up thus: In Aragorn's boat was Frodo. Boromir was with Merry, Draco was with Pippin, Harry was with Sam and Legolas was with Gimli. The constant rowing was making Harry feel as if his arms were ready to fall off. And having the heaviest load (a.k.a., Samwise Gamgee) on his boat made it all the more difficult. But he wasn't about to complain. _Besides_, he thought, _You could use the exercise All the good food at Hogwarts has made you soft.

* * *

_

One night, as they made camp on a rocky riverbank, Boromir beckoned him over behind a rock.

"I overheard you and Gandalf in Moria talking about someone following us. Tell me, do you see something out there?"

Harry peered out into the river. He was about to tell Boromir that it was just a log, but then, it abruptly switched directions and made for the opposite bank.

"Gollum." said Harry. "I'm sure of it."

Aragorn was walking by. "So, you have noticed our friend. He has tracked us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river, but he's too clever a waterman."

"And if he alerts the Enemy to our whereabouts," answered Boromir, "it will make the crossing even more dangerous."

"He won't." said Harry. "He wants the Ring for himself. He's not about to let the Orcs get ahold of it."

"Even so," said Boromir. "Minas Tirith is the safer road. From there, we can regroup, strike out for Mordor from a place of strength."

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us." said Aragorn with a slight sneer.

Boromir flushed in anger, but he kept his voice steady. "You were quick enough to trust the Elves." he said. "Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness, there is frailty, but there is courage and honor to be found in Men also. But you will not see that!" at this point, he voice was beginning to raise. Aragorn gave him a dark look and tried to walk away, but Boromir grabbed his sleeve roughly. "All your life, living in the shadows, you have been afraid of who you are, of what you are!"

Harry stepped between them. "Break it up, you two. This isn't helping anything."

Aragorn, however, could not resist one last jab. "I would not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city!" He stomped off to the other end of the camp and perched himself atop a rock with his pipe lit, just like Gandalf always had.

Boromir sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Harry." he said.

"It's alright. What was that all about?"

"It is complicated. Aragorn is the one and only heir to the Throne of Gondor. He alone can reclaim the Throne of his forefathers, but he does not want it. He would rather live in exile than trust his own people. It is only natural. The Elves do not trust us, and he was raised by Elves."

He lapsed into silence and stared off in the direction of the opposite bank, but his thoughts were clearly not on Gollum, lurking around somewhere over there.

"You should see it, Harry."

"See what?"

"My city, Minas Tirith." said Boromir, speaking as Harry had never heard him speak before. "There is nowhere like it in all of middle earth. As you ride up over the hill, you see the White Tower of Echthelion gleams like a spike of pearl and silver in the sun, it's banners caught high in the morning breeze. And then, you are beckoned home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets."

Harry nodded. "It sounds amazing. I hope I get to see it."

Boromir clasped his shoulder. "One day, our paths will lead us there. You, me, Aragorn, Draco, even Legolas and Gimli and the Hobbits. And the Tower Guard will take up the call, 'The Lords of Gondor have returned!'"

Softly, he bagan to sing.

"_Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the Sea!  
West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree  
Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.  
O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!  
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,  
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?"_

Harry smiled genuinely. This was such a different man from the one he had told to shut up at the Council of Elrond. He wondered what had happened to so drastically change him.

Suddenly, a biting chill filled the air.

Harry shuddered. He knew that feeling.

A great black shape suddenly filled the sky.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel" whispered Legolas.

The creature was like a bird, but with no feathers and great leathery wings like a bat. It's hide was black as night and an even blacker shape sat atop it.

A cry went up exactly like what Harry, Draco and the Hobbits had heard from the Shire all the way to the edges of Rivendell.

Harry pointed his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The silver stag flleapt out and charged across the river.

At the same time, the great bow of Lorien sang. An arrow flew like a lightning bolt.

The creature gave a croaking scream and fell out of sight over on the eastern shore.

"Praise be the Bow of Galadriel." said Gimli. "And the hand and eye of Legolas. That was a mighty shot in the dark."

"But who can say what I hit?" said Legolas.

"I cannot." said Gimli. "But it reminded me of the shadow in Moria...of the Balrog."

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't a Balrog. It was-"

"No!" cried Frodo. "Do not speak it's name." Harry saw him clutching his shoulder and noticed that he had gone very white.

* * *

The light of day revealed nothing on the Easter Shore, but all the same, they set sail with great caution the next day. Fortunately, nothing attacked them and the Great Shadow did not reappear.

Around midday, they rounded a bend in the river and Harry beheld a sight which made the Dwarrowdelf seem about as impressive as Privet Drive.

Looming on either side of the river were statues. But not any normal statues. These would have dwarfed skyscrapers.

Both were men in crowns. One held a sword and the other a great axe. Both had their arms extended out in a gesture of warning.

"Behold." said Aragorn. "The Pillars of the Argonath. Long have I desired to look upon the likenesses of Isildur and Anarion, my kin. Of old, this was the northernmost border of Gondor. Up ahead is the bank of Amon Hen. There, we make camp."

They rowed their boats onto the shore and unloaded their packs. Merry and Pippin set about making a fire.

"So," said Harry to Aragorn. "Do we have a plan?"

Aragorn sighed. "I discussed the path ahead long with Celeborn. Neither of us knew Gandalf's plan past Lothlorien, if even he had one, but here is what I have decided. We will cross the river at nightfall. From there, we will hide the boats and continue on foot. We will approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh yes?" said Gimli. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better. A festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see."

Aragorn's face hardened. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Gimli was livid. "Recover my...Grrrr...Pay no heed to that, young Hobbits."

Legolas ran up to Aragorn. "We must go now. We cannot wait."

"No." said Aragorn. "Orcs patrol the Eastern Shore. We must wait for cover of darkness"

Legolas sighed. "It is not the Eastern Shore which worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing on my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it."

Harry opened his mouth to question him, but suddenly Merry said, "Where's Frodo?"

Everyone looked around for the Ringbearer, but he wasn't there.

"I believe I have a better question." said Boromir. "Where is Draco?"


	9. I: The Breaking of the Fellowship

_((Here's another new chapter. You all asked for more originality, and hopefully, this chapter especially delivers. I've also, if you've noticed, started drawing from the book as well as the movie to spice things up.))_

_((I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))

* * *

Where do we go from here?  
The battle's done and we kinda won,  
So we sound our victory cheer.  
Where do we go from here?_

_Why is the path unclear  
When we know hope is near?  
Understand, we go hand in hand  
But we walk alone in fear.  
Where do we go from here?  
_-Where Do We Go From Here

* * *

Frodo wandered up across the hill aimlessly. He desperately needed an escape from the group. He had a difficult choice to make, and even knowing what the answer was didn't make it any easier.

He sat down on a tree stump and stared out at the sun as it sank lower towards the hills. He desperately missed Gandalf's guidance and wisdom. He thought of everything Gandalf had ever told him, trying to draw out some comfort.

Suddenly, he got the strange feeling that unfriendly eyes were on him. He jumped up and whirled around, his hand on Sting, but all he saw was Draco, his face smiling and kind.

"I was nervous for you, Frodo. I saw you sneak away. But none of us should wander alone, you least of all. So much depends on you. But since we're here, can we talk for a while? To tell you the truth, I've been feeling pretty rotten since Moria and a little friendly talk would make me feel better and probably you too. With everyone having their own opinions, everything gets confused, but maybe just two can make sense of it."

Frodo tried to smile. "You are kind, but I do not think that any speech will help me. I know what I must do, but I am afraid to do it."

Draco looked at him with pity. "I know why you try to be alone, Frodo. You're suffering. I can see it day by day. Are you sure that you aren't suffering for nothing?"

"I think I know what you say, and it seems like wisdom, but for the warning in my heart."

"Warning?" asked Draco sharply. "Against what? We're all of us afraid, Frodo, but if we let that fear drive us and destroy what hope we have, it's idiotic."

"There is no other way!" said Frodo. He didn't like the look which was now replacing the kindness in Draco's face.

"Look," Draco said, "I'm only asking to help. That's all. I want to do my part. Why don't you just let me borrow the Ring?"

Frodo leapt back. "No!" he shouted.

Draco's face went lividly red. "Why do you recoil? I'm not some thief!"

"You are not yourself!" said Frodo.

Draco's face was now twisted into a mask of hatred. "You're a goddamned idiot. What chance do you think you have, filthy little Muggle? Sauron is going to find the Ring and he'll take it from you and you're going to be begging for death before it's all over!"

Frodo turned and started to walk away.

"You fool!" cried Draco. "You don't own it! It's only by chance that you have it! It should be mine! I'm a wizard!"He was walking after Frodo, faster and faster. The Hobbit broke into a run, but Draco tackled him. "Give me the Ring!" he shouted. Frodo tried to fight him off, but he was being quickly overpowered. He had no other choice. He slipped the Ring on and vanished. He used Draco's shock to his advantage by popping him in the nose and escaping.

"I get it now!" shouted Draco venomously. "You're taking it to Him! You're going to betray us! Damn you! Damn you and all your filthy kind!"

He suddenly lost his footing and fell on his face. His mind seemed suddenly to snap back into focus.

"Frodo?" he called weakly. "What have I done? Please, come back, Frodo! I'm sorry! Frodo!"

* * *

Aragorn prowled the woods, using every bit of tracking skill he possessed to try and find Frodo. He had ordered the Fellowship to split up and look for him...and for Draco. A deep fear sat in the pit of his heart, knowing that if lust for the Ring had overtaken the young wizard, that he would go to any lengths to get it from Frodo. 

Suddenly up ahead, he spotted the Hobbit. He was leaning on the pedistal where Amon Hen's Seeing Seat sat and breathing hard.

"Frodo?" he said softly.

The Hobbit jumped and whirled around but then relaxed slightly. "It has taken Draco." he said.

Aragorn's blood suddenly went cold. "Where is the Ring?" he asked a bit too forcefully.

"Stay away!" cried Frodo, running back away from him.

"Frodo! I swore to protect you!"

The young Hobbit removed something from his pocket. "Can you protect me from yourself?"

He held out his hand and opened it. The Ring gleamed in his palm. "Would you destroy it?"

Aragorn gasped. It had been so clear at the Council. The Ring had to be destroyed. But now, he wondered why he shouldn't use it. He was the King of Gondor. Surely he had the right if anyone did. Isildur took it, why not him? He stretched out his hand towards it, then, a sweet voice filled his head. "You are Isildur's Heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate." Arwen's words, which seemed so long ago, overcame his desire for the Ring.

He closed Frodo's hand. "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor."

Frodo smiled sadly. "I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand."

Aragorn nodded and looked down. A glimmer from within Frodo's sheath caught his eye.

He leapt up and drew his sword. "Go Frodo!"

The Hobbit drew Sting. It glowed bright blue.

"Run!" shouted Aragorn.

As Frodo ran back down the hill, Aragorn stepped out from under the awning. A mass of huge Orcs gathered there, howling and brandishing great swords and shields.

Aragorn calmly gave a mock swordsman's salute. The first Orc charged, followed soon by the others. Aragorn brought his sword down and the battle began.

He slew many, but before long, he was being driven back. Even he couldn't hold against this many.

Suddenly, an Arrow zipped past his ear and landed in an Orc's neck.

Legolas, Gimli and Boromir charged out and joined the fray.

* * *

"This was a bright idea!" said Merry as they ran through the woods, barely a step ahead of the Orcs. They had found Frodo and had realized that he was leaving. Just then, they had been spotted by the Orcs. They told Frodo to run while they drew the Orcs off. 

They skidded to a halt suddenly. Another mass of Orcs had cut them off. One grinned and charged them, brandishing a massive axe.

They knew that they were done for.

Suddenly, "_Averte Statum_!" The Orc was picked up off his feet and fell back amongst the other Orcs, being impaled on one of his ally's sword.

"Go!" shouted Draco as he launched more spells into the mass.

Merry and Pippin, instead of running, began throwing rocks which, surprisingly, felled every target they hit.

Draco was hard-pressed to fend off every Orc. He alternated with his sword and with his wand, but he knew he couldn't keep this pace up for long.

He held his wand aloft and sent up bright red sparks into the sky.

And doing so, he didn't spot what came over the crest of the hill.

* * *

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir were having no trouble with their Orcs. Bodies littered the top of the hill. Suddenly, Legolas spotted the red sparks. 

"Aragorn!" he shouted, drawing the Ranger's attention.

Aragorn looked. "One of the wizards is in trouble! Come!"

He made to go down the hill, but suddenly, another mass of Orcs blocked his way.

* * *

Lurtz watched with mild amusement as this child slew his fellow Uruks. But wizard or not, he knew the boy wasn't arrow-proof. 

He drew a hugely thick black arrow and set it to the string of his huge black bow.

He drew it back as far as he could. He held it for, savoring the moment, and fired.

Draco cut down another Orc. This was almost too easy.

All of a sudden, "_Protego_!"

Harry leapt in just in time. The huge arrow struck the magic shield and bounced off.

"You really should be more careful, Draco." he said, grinning.

Lurtz was livid. He couldn't use his bow now without risk of hitting the dark-haired child.

He drew his sword and charged forward.

"Get the Halflings!" he shouted to his troops. "I will deal with the children!"

The Orcs circled around behind Draco and Harry.

Being so engrossed in battle, they barely noticed until two small cries caught their ears.

They turned and saw Orcs carting Merry and Pippin off into the woods.

"No!" shouted Harry, attempting to run after them, but a rough hand caught his sleeve and he was brought face-to-face with the ugliest Orc he had ever seen.

"Going somewhere?" it growled.

Draco pointed his wand. "_Expeliamus_!" The Orc was forced to let go of Harry, but it kept its balance and drew its sword.

It charged and began slashing madly. Draco and Harry, even together, were vastly outmatched.

Whenever they did manage to get a spell off, the Orc managed to evade them.

He managed to shove Harry against a tree and knocked him out with the flat of his shield.

He then turned and punched Draco as hard as he could in the head. The wizard crumpled with a groan.

"Ugluk!" Lurtz shouted.

His lieutenant emerged from the trees.

"Take the dark-haired one on your Warg. Sharky wants him immediately. I will deal with the other one."

Ugluk nodded and slung Harry over his shoulder and ran off into the woods.

Lurtz picked up his discarded bow and drew an arrow.

Draco was just coming to consciousness. He looked up through blurred vision and saw Lurtz taking aim.

The Orc growled and released his arrow, but at that same moment, something hit him in the side, knocking the wind out of him and sending the arrow off course.

He rolled to his feet and found himself facing a man carrying a round shield.

He drew his sword and charged with unbridled rage.

But the man parried every blow and was soon driving him back.

His only lucky blow would have been fatal, but hit the great horn which hung over his shoulder, splitting it.

This wasn't possible! He was a fighting Uruk Hai!

This was his last thought as his head rolled from his shoulders.

Boromir sheathed his sword and ran over to Draco.

He looked terrible. His hair was matted with blood and he had a wicked-looking black eye.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli arrived then.

"Boromir, is he..." Aragorn asked.

Boromir shook his head. "No, he is alive, but he is hurt."

Draco opened his eyes. "They took the Hobbits." he croaked.

"Stay still." said Aragorn.

"Where is Frodo?" he asked.

Aragorn sighed. "I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I was too weak to do. Aragorn, I tried to take the Ring."

Aragorn offered him a sad smile. He had known this, and he expected that he would be livid with Draco, but he knew that it was no fault of the young man's. The Ring's corruption had taken men even stronger than he. "The Ring is beyond our reach now."

He examined the wound in Draco's head. He sighed with relief. "It isn't deep. You will heal, but I do not envy you the headache you will have from it." He chewed some aethalas and spread it in the wound. "To ease the pain." he said.

Suddenly, Draco sat up. "Where is Harry?"

Aragorn shrugged. "I do not know. He was not with us."

Draco stood shakily to his feet. "He was with me! We were defending the Hobbits! I saw that Orc knock him out!"

They searched the woods in a wide radius, but found no sign of a body.

"That means he is taken! We must go look for him!" said Boromir.

"But that means we must leave Frodo and Sam to go to Mordor alone!" said Legolas.

Everyone looked at Aragorn. He had his head bowed.

"You mean not to follow them." said Legolas.

"Frodo's fate," said Aragorn, "is no longer in our hands."

"Then it has all been in vain!" growled Gimli. "The Fellowship has failed."

Aragorn clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry, Pippin and Harry to torment and death, not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc."

* * *

**The End of Part One  
**  



	10. II: Rohan, Home of the Horse Lords

_((Thanks for the reviews. Here's the first chapter of part two.))_

_((I don't own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))

* * *

_

**Part II: The Treason of Isengard**

* * *

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir and Draco returned briefly to the riverbank to gather a few supplies.

Draco stared at Harry's wand which he had recovered from the battle. It all was his fault. If he hadn't called for help, Harry wouldn't have been captured.

Boromir sighed and looked mournfully at his horn, now split in half. "It breaks the heart. This horn has been in my family for generations." he said.

"Any chance of fixing it?" asked Draco.

Boromir shook his head. "No. Even if it is mended, it will not sound properly." He threw the pieces into the river. "I will let the Anduin have it." he said.

Legolas was gazing across the river.

"Frodo and Sam have reached the Easter Shore." he said. "I suppose it is done then."

Aragorn nodded. "Come. The Uruks already have a head start."

* * *

Harry stood outside the Great Hall, waiting for his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.

He was very excited about this. He felt ready to handle anything. He stepped through the doors and found that the place had undergone a bizarre transformation. The walls had been made to look like stone and a massive chasm had been dug in the floor. Stretching across the chasm was a long, narrow bridge.

"Step onto the Bridge, Potter." said McGonagall. "Today, you will be fighting a Balrog."

"But Professor," he said, "Professor Umbridge never taught us about Demons of the Ancient World!"

McGonagall scoffed. "Nonsense, Potter. I would expect a first year to be able to handle a Balrog."

Harry swallowed hard and stepped onto the Bridge. He found that as he moved further, he had changed. His school robes ere gone, replaced by tattered grey ones. His hair had grown long and turned white and a long beard now extended down from his chin. His wand had grown into a thick, knobby staff.

With a flash of fire, the Balrog appeared.

"You cannot pass!" Harry shouted. He heard Frodo's voice calling Gandalf's name from behind him, but he kept his focus on the Balrog.

"I am the servant of the secret fire!" he said, raising his staff. "Wielder of the Flame of Anor! The Dark Fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"

The Balrog brought its sword down with crushing force, but Harry's shield protected him.

"Go back to the shadow!" he said.

The creature roared at him and brandished a flaming whip.

Harry lifted his staff in the air.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" He brought the staff down on the bridge where it broke in his hand.

The Balrog snorted and leapt onto the bridge. Right at its feet, the Bridge broke, sending the Balrog careening down into the chasm.

Harry turned back to the Fellowship, but something wrapped around his knees and dragged him to the edge of the bridge.

He saw Frodo try to run to him, but he was held back by... Him?

"Fly, you fools." said Harry as he lost his grip on the bridge and fell after the Balrog.

But the dream did not end there.

As Harry fell, he saw his sword falling a short ways down. He reached out his hand and snatched it.

By now, he was drawing close to the tumbling Balrog. He knew that this fall would not destroy it. So, bracing himself for the pain, he grabbed onto it and began hacking at it.

Ever it clutched at him and ever he hewed it. It's fire was all around him and he was burned.

Then, he saw fast approaching, the inky black surface of an underground lake. He spun around and grabbed the Balrog's back, bracing himself for the cold.

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, not knowing where he was. He rubbed his eyes and strained his memory. He remembered fighting the Orc and then...nothing. He looked around. It was night time and he could see shapes moving around, speaking in low tones. Hunched creatures walked about or sat by low fires.

Then, everything started coming back to him. He remembered being thrown onto the back of that wolf-thing by the Orc called Ugluk, and the seemingly never-ending ride north.

A little ways away, he could see Ugluk hunched by a fire with another Orc.

"Why haven't you moved forward to attack yet?" he growled.

"We have our orders." the other said. "We're to wait until Bagrod's group attacks the Horsemen and then, we go in and get 'em from behind."

Ugluk growled. "Well I have something important that Sharky wants. How am I supposed to get through with those foul Horsemen in the way?"

The other Orc chortled. "Well, you'll just have to wait and endure Sharky's... displeasure."

Harry didn't understand everything that was going on, but what he did get was that these Orcs were going to ambush a group of Men. And Harry guessed, based on what he had studied of Middle Earth in Rivendell, that these had to be the Men of Rohan. According to Elrond, they were some of the few who still fought Sauron.

He knew he had to get word to them. The only problem was, he was tied up and his sword and wand were back at Amon Hen.

But then he remembered one of the false Professor Moody's lessons.

"You don't need your wand to do magic. Sure, it makes things a helluva lot easier, but if you concentrate very hard, you can access it."

Harry closed his eyes and thought of all the times he had done magic without a wand. He thought of making the glass at the Zoo vanish when he was eleven. He remembered inflating Aunt Marge two yours before, and he remembered casting the Lumos spell when he dropped his wand at Privet Drive just a few months before.

He concentrated, just as "Moody" had taught him and thought of nothing but breaking the ropes on his wrists.

At first, there was nothing. Then, after a few minutes, he heard a snap and the ropes slid off. He looked up to make sure that Ugluk was still occupied and when he was sure, he untied his legs.

Quietly, he slipped around a tent, using the darkness to hide from the Orcs.

He got to the water's edge before his absence was noticed.

"FIND HIM!" he heard Ugluk scream. "FIND HIM OR I'LL HAVE EVERY ONE OF YOUR FILTHY HEADS!"

Harry leapt into the river and began to swim across. Cries went up and arrows splashed around him, but he made it to the other side.

He half ran, half stumbled into the trees blindly. He was exhausted, freezing and his head hurt, but he had to keep going.

By some stroke of luck, he spotted campfires a short ways in. Crouched beside them were not Orcs, but tall, grim-faced men. Harry saw that Horses were kept in a make-shift paddock at one end of the camp.

Harry stumbled forward into the firelight.

One of the men spotted Harry. "Hold there!" he shouted.

"Orcs...Other side...of the river..." Harry gasped. The man had to hold him up to keep him from falling over.

"Find the Prince!" he shouted. Another man ran off into the camp. The man who supported Harry sat him down by the fire and put a cloak around his shoulders.

A few moments later, the second man returned, this time accompanied by a young man, little older than Harry.

"Prince Theodred." said the first man. "This is the boy."

Theodred nodded and kneeled down next to Harry.

"Who are you and why do you wander these lands alone?" he asked.

"I was captured by Orcs." said Harry. "They were taking me so see someone called Sharky. I escaped. Your Majesty, there's a group of Orcs across the river. I heard them talking. They're going to try to ambush you from behind."

Theodred's eyes went wide. He beckoned a man over. "Send a scout. See if this is true."

He turned back to Harry. "If what you say is true, you will have earned the eternal gratitude of Rohan. What is your name?"

"Harry, sir. Harry Potter."

Theodred smiled at him. "Welcome, Harry Potter. I am Prince Theodred, First Marshall of the Riddermark. Son of King Theoden."

"Boulvai," he called. A man approached. "Get Master Harry something to eat." the man saluted and disappeared. "Now Harry." said Theodred, "Unless you are too tired, I would like to know a bit more about you."

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to reveal the nature of Frodo's quest, so he merely told Theodred that he and a group of companions had been on the way to Gondor when they had been waylaid by Orcs.

* * *

Aragorn lay with his ear pressed against a rock. Through it, he could hear the pounding of many feet, growing steadily more distant.

"Their pace is quickened," he said. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!" he called back. He stood and began running again, followed close behind by Boromir and Legolas.

Legolas looked back over his shoulder. "Come on Gimli!" he said.

The Dwarf ran up, looking totally winded.

"Three days and night's pursuit...No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell..."

Draco ran past him. "Oh come on. Stop complaining." he said.

The five hunters continued on their long chase. They had tracked the Uruks all the way from Emyn Muil and now, they were getting closer.

At one point, Aragorn stopped and picked something up from the grass.

"What is it?" asked Boromir.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall..." said Aragorn softly. He held up for all to see, a silver and green brooch, shaped like a Mallorn leaf.

"They may yet be alive." said Legolas.

"Less than a day ahead of us." said Aragorn. "Come!"

The Men and the Elf continued running. With a growl, a certain dwarf rolled down a hill behind them.

"Hurry, Gimli!" shouted Legolas. "We are gaining on them!"

The Dwarf stood. "I'm wasted on cross-country! We Dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

As they came up over a rise, they found a vast country of rocky prairie spread before them.

"Rohan." said Boromir. "Home of the Horse Lords. These people are friends of Gondor. If I can talk to them, they will aid us."

"Yes," said Aragorn, "But there something strange at work here. I am tired as no Ranger should be with a quest and a clear trail to follow. Some evil lends speed to these creatures yet sets its will against us. Legolas, tell me what you can see."

Legolas sprang up on a rock. "The Uruks turn north-east!" he shouted. "They are taking Harry and the Hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman." hissed Draco.

* * *

Had it not been for Harry's intel, Theodred's company would have been decimated by the attack which came the next morning. But they had time to set up a strong rear defense and they were able to hold until another force of Rohirrim arrived.

The battle was short, but vicious, but in the end, every Orc was slaughtered.

"Well met, Eomer!" said Theodred, embracing the leader of the other force.

The man smiled. "You as well, cousin. Are you alright?"

Theodred smiled. "Yes, thanks to Master Harry here."

He brought Harry forward. Eomer shook his hand. "We are in your debt, sir." he said. "Come, Theodred. Return to Edoras with me. We can report this victory together."

They mounted up and rode off. Harry was given a horse called Hrothgar to ride.

They had reached Edoras by that evening.

Edoras looked like something out of Beowulf. The city was set atop a hill. Around it was a high wooden fence. It's buildings were standard-looking medieval wooden homes, but what caught his eye was the thing that crowned the hill. It was a great hall which seemed to be thatched with gold. Everywhere, he saw the motif of the horse. Now, he understood why the Rohirrim were described as the Horse Lords.

He noticed that as they got closer to it, Eomer and Theodred had grown silent and grim. As they entered the Hall, he understood why.

At the far end of the hall was a gilded throne. Upon the throne sat, what appeared at first to be a lump of cloth, but was actually King Theoden. He looked so old that Harry thought it was a marvel he wasn't dead yet.

His blank, expressionless eyes stared at nothing. His hair hung in ragged white clumps. His skin appeared almost translucent.

"Hello, father." said Theodred.

The King said nothing, but his eyes flickered briefly up to his son's face.

"We were victorious at the Fords of the Isen." he said.

Still, the King didn't respond.

"They were ambushed though." said Eomer. "By Orcs. If it had not been for this young man here, they would have had no warning."

"Father," said Theodred. "If we do not defend our country, Saruman will take it by force."

"That is a lie!" said a voice.

A man who looked like he took fashion lessons from Professor Snape stepped out and sat at the King's side. "Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally!"

"Grima..." Theoden mumbled.

Theodred glared at the man. "Father, Orcs are roaming freely across our lands, unchecked, unchallenged, killing at will! Orcs bearing the White Hand of Saruman!" He dropped a crude metal helmet at the King's feet. Right on it's face was a white hand-print.

Grima's eyes widened, and he was silent for a moment.

Then, he spoke in the same silky voice. "Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind? Can you not see your Father is wearied by your...malcontent...Your warmongering?

Harry could tell this was the final straw with Theodred. "Warmongering?" He shoved Grima against a wall. "How long has it been since Saruman bought you?"

"What was the promised price, Wormtongue?" asked Eomer. "When all the men are dead, you will take your share of the treasure?"

But Wormtongue was not looking at them. His eyes were following a woman as she crossed the hall. Harry got an idea what the promised price was.

Eomer grabbed Wormtongue by the throat. "Too long have you watched my sister!" he hissed. "Too long have you haunted her steps!"

Harry noticed a group of men walking across the hall towards the altercation, but he figured they were going to cheer Eomer and Theodred on. But instead, they grabbed the mens' shoulders and dragged them away from Wormtongue.

"You see much, Eomer, Son of Eomund and Theodred, Son of Theoden." hissed Wormtongue. "Too much."

One of the men sucker-punched Eomer. Harry was about to run forward and help, but Theodred shook his head at him.

"You are banished forthwith from the Kingdom of Rohan" said Wormtongue to the two Marshals, "and all of its domains, under pain of death."

"You have no authority here!" shouted Eomer. "Your orders mean nothing!"

A nasty smile played across Wormtongue's face. "Oh, but this order does not come from me. It comes from the King. He signed it this morning." he pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it.

Emoer raged and tried to get at Wormtongue, but Theodred simply stared at the parchment with his mouth hanging open.

The men dragged them out the doors and tossed them down the steps. Harry quickly followed.

"Come." said Theodred in a hollow voice. "We can do no more good here. We will gather our troops and go North. I hear King Brand is in need of soldiers." They mounted their horses and checked their gear.

Harry called after him. "Theodred! Wait! I want to go with you."

The young man clasped his shoulder. "No, Harry. Stay. You will be needed here more than with us. Farewell. And thank you again."

Eomer also approached him. "I know that we do not know one another well, and that you do not owe us anything, but I believe you to be a man of honor. And...Well... I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything." said Harry.

"Do not let that piece of filth touch my sister."


	11. II: The King of the Golden Hall

_((The reviews are amazing everyone. Thank you so much!))_

_((I do not own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings.))

* * *

_

It was now the fifth day of their hunt and the Uruks were nowhere in sight.

But nevertheless, something was approaching.

Aragorn directed his companions to hide in a stand of rocks. As they watched from their hiding place, a long line of horsemen rode past.

As soon as they had passed, Aragorn walked out.

"Riders of Rohan!" he shouted. "What news from the Mark?"

In an instant, the line had swerved around and with shocking speed, they surrounded the companions. Draco found himself staring at a wall of spear tips.

One of the Riders came forward. "What business do three men, an Elf and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse master, and I shall give ya mine!" growled Gimli.

Before the lead Rider could stop him, another leapt from his saddle.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground!"

In an instant, an arrow was pointed at his face.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" said Legolas dangerously.

Boromir sighed and pushed Legolas' bow down.

"Come now, Eomer, and if I am not mistaken, Prince Theodred, surely you recognize me." he said.

The lead Rider took off his helmet. "Ah, Boromir! I did not see you clearly. You are welcome in these lands, but who are your companions?"

"This is Aragorn, Son of Arathon, Ranger of the North, Gimli, Son of Gloin of the Lonely Mountain, Legolas, Son of Thranduil, of the Woodland realm, and Draco Malfoy. All are friends of Rohan and of King Theoden."

Theodred sighed. "King Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe, not even his own kin. Saruman has poisoned my father's mind and claimed lordship over these lands. My cousin, Eomer and I, along with our company are those loyal to Rohan. For that, we are banished. But, if I may ask, why are you out here?"

"We have been tracking a party of Uruk Hai." said Aragorn. "They have taken three of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed." said Theodred. "We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two Hobbits!" said Gimli. "Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small." said Aragorn, reading the confusion on Theodred's face. "Only children to your eyes. And a young man there was also of about fifteen summers."

Theodred's face became grim. "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." He pointed off in the distance where a plume of black smoke could be seen.

"Dead...?" whispered Gimli.

"I am sorry." said Theodred sympathetically. He thought for a moment before giving a shrill whistle. "Hasufel, Arod, Brego, Wulfga." Four horses trotted up to him.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell."

He and Eomer mounted their horses. As they rode off, Theodred stopped and said, "Look for your friends, but do not trust hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride North!"

The company galloped away and was soon lost in a cloud of dust.

Later on, Eomer would ask Theodred, "I wonder if they might have been looking for Harry Potter."

But for now, the five companions mounted their horses, Aragorn on Brego, Boromir on Hasufel, Draco on Wulfga, and Legolas and Gimli on Arod. and set off for the pillar of smoke on the horizon.

* * *

Miles away, Harry sat on the steps of Meduseld, also thinking of his companions. He wondered what had become of them. Where were Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and Draco? Were they dead? Had they too been captured? And what of Merry and Pippin? Had they escaped the Uruk Hai? But most of all, his thoughts strayed to Frodo and Sam. He wondered if, even now, they were making their way towards Mordor.

"Well, well, spying are we?"

Harry looked up. Grima Wormtongue was standing in the doorway. Harry snorted. "Spying on what? The steps? Yes, such a big secret. I'm sure all of Middle Earth would love to know the secret of stairs."

"Mind your tongue, boy." hissed Wormtongue. "It is by the King's grace that you remain here and you would do well to remember that."

* * *

Draco had to try his hardest not to throw up when they reached the site of the battle.

The smell of burning flesh was almost overpowering and the sight of an Uruk Hai's head mounted on a spear would be enough to make the stoutest man's stomach turn.

But more than any of that, it was too much to hope that anything had survived the carnage before them.

Everyone spread out, looking for any sign of the Hobbits and Harry. Gimli, who was sifting through the pile of charred bodies with his axe suddenly gasped. He held up a strip of burnt leather, upon which sill hung a sheath for a dagger.

"It's one of the wee Hobbit belts." said Gimli.

Legolas put his hand on his heart and spoke an Elvish prayer.

"_Hiro hyn hîdh ab'wanath_." (May they find peace in death.)

Aragorn's reaction was not so subdued. He kicked an Uruk Hai helmet with all his might and let out a cry of anguish.

"We have failed them." said Boromir.

Aragorn fell to his knees. He looked down at the ground. "A Hobbit lay here." he said. "And the other." He then narrowed his eyes as he saw more signs. "They crawled. Their hands were bound." He walked a short ways and stooped to pick up a length of rope laying in the grass. "Their bonds were cut!" he said. His voice was growing excited. "They ran over here! But they were followed..." The others had to run to keep up with him. "The tracks lead away from the battle...And into Fangorn Forest!"

"Fangorn..." said Boromir. "What madness drove them in there?"

"It was the only refuge from the battle and from the Orc who followed them. I find something odd, though. In all of this, I have seen no signs of Harry."

Boromir sighed. "Could that not mean that he lies with those unfortunate Orcs?"

Aragorn shook his head. "No. There would have been some kind of tracks. There were no tracks there which could have possible been made by him."

"So what does that mean?" asked Draco.

"I do not know. But come. Let us follow the trail into Fangorn while there is light."

* * *

Gimli caught sight of a dark substance staining a leaf.

"What is that" asked Draco.

Gimli but a bit on his finger and immediately spat it out in disgust. "Bleh...Orc blood."

Further into the forest, Aragorn make a strange discovery. "These are strange tracks. I have never seen their kind."

"Whatever made them is very large." said Boromir.

Gimli had his axe held at the ready. Every now and again, loud groans and creaks would sound out from the forest. "The air is so close in here." he said.

Legolas, meanwhile, had a look o his face like a child in a toy store. "This forest is old, very old. Such that I feel young again. It is full of memory...and anger."

An especially loud groan made Gimli jump and raise his axe.

"The trees are speaking to each other!" said Legolas.

Aragorn caught sight of the Dwarf, looking ready to chop the next thing that moved. "Gimli!" he said. "Lower your axe!" He begrudgingly obeyed, though he kept it in his hand.

"They have feelings, my friend." Legolas said to Gimli. "The Elves began it...waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees?" snorted Gimli. "What do trees have to talk about besides the consistency of squirrel droppings?"

Suddenly, Legolas ran forward and said, _" Aragorn, nad no ennas!"_ (Aragorn, there is something out there!)

_"Man cenich?"_ (What do you see?) the Ranger asked, peering into the woods.

"The White Wizard approaches." he whispered, giving a slight head jerk over his shoulder.

Aragorn got the idea. "Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us."

Everyone drew their weapons slowly and quietly.

"We must be quick." he said.

They all whirled with weapons drawn. A bright flash of white surrounded the figure of a man holding a staff. The light nearly blinded them, but Legolas fired an arrow which the man deflected with his staff. Gimli's throwing axe was also knocked aside. Both Aragorn and Boromir dropped their swords as if they had suddenly become too hot to carry, and to Draco's shock, the man said, "_Expeliamus_!" and Draco's wand flew from his grasp.

The glowing man now had them at his mercy. **"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits."** said a deep, unearthly voice. It wasn't a question.

"Where are they?" demanded Boromir.

**"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they...did not expect. Does that comfort you?"**

"Who are you?" asked Aragorn. "Show yourself!"

The light faded, revealing the face of their mysterious guest.

"No way..." gasped Draco.

"It cannot be..." said Aragorn simultaneously.

And still at the same time, Boromir said, "It isn't possible..."

Standing there, wearing immaculate white robes and with long white hair, was Gandalf.

"Forgive me." said Legolas, sinking to his knees. "I mistook you for Saruman."

Gandalf smiled. "I am Saruman...Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

Draco's mouth was hanging open. "You fell..."

The wizard's face hardened. "Through fire...and water...From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought the Balrog of Morgoth...Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountain side...Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life-age of the earth...But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I had been sent back until my task was done."

"Gandalf..." whispered Aragorn smiling.

The wizard gave him a quizzical look. "Gandalf? Yes...That is what they used to call me...Gandalf the Grey...That was my name. I am Gandalf the White, and I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

"At the...What?" asked Draco.

Gandalf threw on a cloak of Lothlorien. "One stage of your journey is over, another begins. War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" said Gimli. "That is no short distance."

"We met Prince Theodred abroad in the Riddermark." said Boromir. "There is trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the King."

"Yes and it will not be easily cured." said Gandalf.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing!" growled Gimli. Are we to leave those poor Hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested..." The trees began to groan in displeasure. "I mean, charming! Quite charming forest!" he corrected himself quickly.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn." Gandalf said. "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

"In one way, you have not changed, old friend." said Aragorn smiling. Gandalf gave him a confused look, which the Ranger answered with, "You still speak in Riddles."

Gandalf laughed. "A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder days. The Ents are going to wake up, and find that they are strong."

"Strong?" Gimli said nervously. "Oh, that's good."

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf." Gandalf said, turning on his heel and continuing to lead them out of the forest. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be!"

"This new Gandalf is quite a bit grumpier than the old one." muttered Gimli.

"Wait!" shouted Draco. "What about Harry? Is he here too?"

Gandalf stopped and thought for a moment. "Ah yes, Mr. Potter. I had forgotten about him. Now come, we must hurry."

No matter how he was pressed, Draco could get no clearer answer out of the Wizard.

* * *

They emerged from Fangorn, thanks to Gandalf's guidance, right by the pile of dead Orcs.

Their horses had not wandered far and came trotting up as soon as they saw their masters.

Something suddenly occurred to Draco.

"Uh...Gandalf, how are you getting to Edoras?" He eyed Gandalf's cloak, wondering if he had a broomstick hidden in there.

The Wizard smiled. "Not to worry." he said. He raised his head and let out a long, trilling whistle. He waited a moment and then did it again. After another moment, he was answered with a horse's whinny. A great white stallion was galloping towards them around the forest. The four great steeds of Rohan which they rode looked like mules in comparison.

"That is one of the Meras," said Legolas in awe. "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell..."

"Shadowfax." said Gandalf. "He is the Lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers."

* * *

Eowyn, after much argument, had finally allowed Harry to take on some responsibilities around Edoras. She felt strongly that guests to the city should not have to do work, but he insisted that he earn his keep. He was now the city's unofficial gofer. Anything anyone needed done, he did. One day, after having spent the whole morning out in the fields helping the farmers, he was heading to his room for a bath when he spotted something interesting.

Eowyn was sitting in her room, crying. He was about to enter and ask if she was alright when a door slammed down the hall. He looked and saw Wormtongue. The King's Advisor had not spotted him yet, so he ducked into an alcove.

Wormtongue walked past Eowyn's room and he too spotter her crying.

"Oh, my lady," he said in a false sympathetic voice. "I know how hard these times must be on you, especially now that your brother and cousin have abandoned you."

Harry seethed. They hadn't abandoned her. The rat had chucked them out.

"Leave me alone, snake!" spat Eowyn.

A cruel smile came to his lips. "Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness, in bitter watches of the night...When all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you...So fair...So cold...Like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill."

Harry saw him moving closer to her and decided it was time for him to act. He burst in.

"Get away from her." he growled.

Wormtongue jumped. "Get back to work, errand boy!" he spat.

"Harry, please just leave." Eowyn pleaded.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but no. I promised Eomer that I would keep him away from you. I promised to protect you."

This was obviously the wrong choice of words. "I do not need protection." she said dangerously. "I can fend for myself. And you!" she said, rounding on Wormtongue. "Your words are poisin. Keep away from me!" She glared at both of the men and stormed out of the room.

Wormtongue, looking very deflated, turned to Harry and said, "I think your time in Rohan has ended." He too stormed out, leaving Harry to wonder what the hell had just happened.

* * *

As the Fellowship came up over a hilltop, they were greeted by the same sight, that, if they had know it, Harry had been greeted with days before.

"Edoras," said Gandalf, "and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

Draco snorted. "We haven't looked for welcome since we left Rivendell."

As they rode closer to the gate, a great green standard with the emblem of a charging white horse fluttered down past them in the wind and was bourne across the plains. This struck Draco as strangely symbolic.

As they rode up through the city, the somber mood fell on them like a lead weight. Not one smile could they see in the crowd of people.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard." muttered Gimli.

Aragorn looked up and saw a woman in a white dress standing in front of the Great Hall. She was gazing down at them with a look of enormous mistrust.

He tore his own gaze away for a moment, and when he looked again, she was gone.

As the Fellowship reached the top of the steps up to the Hall, a group of soldiers emerged to greet them.

"Ah, Hama." said Gandalf to the leader. "Well met."

Hama nodded. "You as well. We had heard a rumor that you had fallen. I, for one, am glad to see that it is not true. But I'm afraid I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame...By order of Grima Wormtongue." He said this last part with a look of great distaste.

Gandalf frowned, but nodded in compliance. He unhooked Glamdring from his belt and handed it to a guard. Aragorn handed over his sword, his bow, his hunting knife, and the Elvish dagger Celeborn had given him. Boromir gave his sword and shield and a throwing dagger. Legolas twirled his twin daggers skillfully before handing them over along with his bow and quiver. Draco handed over his sword, but gave Harry's wand and kept his own hidden. Gimli was the last to surrender his weapons, but with an irritated sigh, he gave up his three axes.

They moved forward to go in, but Hama stopped them. "Your staff." he said to Gandalf.

The wizard looked highly offended. "Dear me, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

Hama gave him a wry look, but allowed them to pass.

Wormtongue was just getting to suggesting that the King chuck Harry out when the doors swung open and the Fellowship entered.

"My Lord," he said. "Gandalf the Grey is here."

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." said Gandalf.

As they moved through the Hall, Draco saw the dark shapes of men shadowing them on either side.

"Aragorn..." he whispered.

"I know." the Ranger said. "Don't look at them."

"He is a herald of woe. He is not welcome." Wormtongue hissed in the King's ear.

Theoden seemed to come out of his stupor. "Why...Should I welcome you...Gandalf Stormcrow?" he croaked haltingly.

"A just question, my liege." said Wormtongue. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell, I name him. Ill news is an ill guest." He had stepped down until he was eye-to-eye with Gandalf.

"Be silent!" the Wizard snapped. "And keep your forked tongue behind your teeth! I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" He raised the tip of his staff until it pointed at Wormtongue's head.

"The staff..." he gasped. "I told you to take the Wizard's staff! The fool Hama has betrayed us all!"

The men charged out from the shadows, but the Fellowship was ready for them.

"Now, Draco!" said Aragorn.

Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at one group. "_Imobulus_!"

The other group was stopped just as quickly. Gimli threw Wormtongue to the floor and planted a foot on his chest. "I would stay still if I were you!" he said.

"Theoden, Son of Thengel!" said Gandalf, striding up to the King. "Too long have you sat in the shadows. Harken to me! I release you from this spell." He held out his hand. Draco expected at least a flash of light, but what he did not expect was for the King to start cackling madly.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" he said in a voice which did not belong to him.

Gandalf glared at him lividly. He threw off the grey cloak of Lothlorien to reveal his shining white robes. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." He pointed his staff at Theoden and the King was slammed back against his throne.

Eowyn chose that moment to enter. Upon seeing her King under attack, she tried to run forward to help him. Aragorn stopped her. "Wait." he whispered.

"If I go, Theoden dies!" the King spat.

Gandalf again knocked him back. "You did not kill me, you will not kill him!"

Theoden snarled. "Rohan is mine!"

"Be gone!" said Gandalf.

Theoden struggled against the magic. Finally, he broke free and lunged at Gandalf who answered with a tremendous blast of magic which nearly knocked over the throne as well.

Theoden groaned and began to fall forward. Eowyn broke free of Aragorn and ran up in time to catch her Uncle. She lifted him up and set him on the throne with a small gasp.

Time seemed to be running backwards for him. His hair, which had been limp and gray, grew thick and regained its color. His skin lost its sickly transparent look and became healthy again. And his eyes regained their sharp focus.

He looked around, confused. He then saw his niece kneeling next to him.

"I know your face." he said. "Eowyn...Eowyn."

The shield-maiden smiled and tears streamed down her face.

He then noticed the shining white figure before his throne. "Gandalf?"

The wizard smiled. "Breathe the free air again, my friend."

Theoden stood up, his joints cracking. As he did, another several years seemed to fall off of him. He raised his hands and rubbed them together slightly.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better," said Gandalf, "If they grasped your sword."

Hama ran out of the room and came back in a moment later, carrying a long sword in an elegant sheath.

Theoden closed his fingers around the hilt uncertainly, but with resolve, he pulled the blade out and held it aloft. He smiled, but then, his eyes flickered over to Wormtongue who was trying to squirm out of Gimli's grasp.

"Someone get this filth out of my hall!" growled Theoden.

Hama and Boromir took the wretched man and literally dragged him out and threw him down the steps.

Theoden followed, still brandishing the sword dangerously.

"I've only ever served you, my lord!" gasped Wormtongue as he tried to back away.

"Your leechcraft," said Theoden, "would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your side!"

Theoden raised his sword to strike the man down, but Aragorn stopped him.

"No, my Lord! Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Theoden reluctantly lowered the sword. Aragorn offered a hand to help Wormtongue up, but the man spat viciously on it and ran away.

"Hail Theoden King!" shouted Aragorn to the assembled crowd.

Draco turned back to go back into the hall, and found himself staring into a familiar face.

"Harry!" he exclaimed.

But he wasn't looking at Draco. He was staring at a certain wizard with his jaw hanging open.

Gandalf smiled. "Yes, Harry Potter, it is I. I have returned."

By this time, the rest of the Fellowship had spotted Harry and they all ran forward to greet him.

Only Legolas with his sharp hearing, heard Theoden whisper, "Where is Theodred? Where is my son?"


	12. II: Stewing Over Memories

_((Here's another new chapter. Thanks for the reviews!))_

_((I don't own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))

* * *

_

Theoden picked one of the white flowers from the grass at his feet.

"Simbelmynë." he said. "Ever has it covered the tombs of my forebearers... But now, it will never grow on the grave of my son. He is gone."

Harry stood a bit behind Gandalf, not quite sure what to do. After he had gotten over the shock that the Wizard was still alive and that the Fellowship, minus the Hobbits, was there, he had been forced to tell Theoden that he had banished his son and his nephew.

"Theodred didn't blame you, sir." he said. "He understood that Saruman was controlling you."

Theoden offered him a sad smile. "I suppose I own you a great deal. Eowyn tells me that you saved Theodred's life and fought alongside him to keep the Ford of the Isen out of enemy hands. The Kingdom is in your debt."

Harry blushed. "It was nothing, sir."

He suddenly noticed that Theoden was gazing past him. He turned. Riding towards them was an extremely tired-looking horse. Two very small shapes sat atop it, and as they watched, one of them tumbled out of the saddle and fell to the ground.

All three ran to them as fast as they could.

Harry checked the boy's pulse when he reached him. "He's alive, but I think he's dehydrated. We need to get him inside."

Gandalf nodded. "I will take him on the horse. Harry, would you and King Theoden take the girl?"

Harry nodded and helped the sobbing little girl down.

"What is your name?" he asked her as Gandalf set the boy in the saddle.

"F-Freda." she said.

"Freda, your brother is going to be alright."

"Eothain." she said.

"What-"

"His name is Eothain. Our horsey's named Errol."

Harry smiled at her. "I know an owl named Errol, but he's nowhere near as fine a beast as your horse. Actually, he's a bit of a menace, really."

Freda giggled. Theoden scooped the girl up in his arms with surprising gentleness and they made their way back to the Golden Hall.

Eothain was already awake and ravenously devouring a bowl of stew when they entered. Theoden sat Freda down beside him and Eowyn gave her a bowl of stew as well.

Eothain had informed them of the attack by the men of Dunland on their village.

Theoden now sat on his throne with his head bowed. Some of the years had seemed to return to him in the past few hours.

"They had no warning." said Eowyn. "Now the Wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go; rick, cot and tree."

"Where is mama?" Freda asked. Eowyn shushed her.

Gandalf sighed. "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent, for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head-on! Draw him away from your women and children."

"You have two-thousand good men riding north as we speak." said Aragorn.

"Yeah." agreed Harry. "Theodred and Eomer are still loyal to you. They'll return in a heartbeat."

"They will be three-hundred leagues from here by now." said Theoden angrily. Harry could tell that the anger was directed at himself, not anyone else. "Theodred and Eomer cannot help us."

"Send me!" said Boromir. "I will ride to my city and rally support. My father still honors the old alliances."

"If that were so," said Theoden. "Then where is he? Where have your soldiers been while Saruman has attacked us for the past three months?"

Boromir bristled with anger, but Legolas placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

Gandalf stood and started to speak but Theoden cut him off. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war," said Aragorn pointedly, "is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

Theoden glared at him. "When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn was King of Rohan."

"Oh and a bloody fine job you're doing of it too." sneered Draco sarcastically. Gandalf shot him a warning look, which he deliberately ignored. "First you swallow that rubbish Saruman and Wormtongue feed you, then you banish thousands of loyal soldiers and now, you won't even go out fight your enemy."

"Silence, impudent child!" thundered Theoden, causing everyone in the room to jump. "I am King of Rohan! Not you, not anyone else! I decide what is best for my people!"

"Then what is the King's decision?" asked Gandalf.

Theoden sat back down on his throne and thought for a few moments. "Helm's Deep." he said finally. "Ever has it been our refuge in times of desperation and no enemy has ever taken it. There are caves where thousands can stay comfortably if need be. That is my FINAL word." he added, glaring at Draco and Aragorn."

* * *

"By order of the King, the city must empty!" announced Hama a few hours later. "We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep! Do not burden yourselves with treasures. Take only what provisions you need!"

"He is the world's biggest git!" yelled Draco as the Fellowship made their way to the stables.

"He is only doing what is best for his people." said Aragorn. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

"No, I am afraid Draco is right." said Gandalf. "There is no way out of that ravine. Theoden is walking headlong into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Theoden has a strong will. Too strong, in fact. I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. Their defenses have to hold."

Aragorn nodded. "They will hold."

Gandalf turned to Shadowfax. "The Grey Pilgrim. That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men have walked this earth and now, I have no time." He sighed heavily and leapt onto the horse's back. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming. At first light of the fifth day at dawn, look to the East."

"Good luck, Gandalf." said Harry.

The Wizard nodded. "You as well, Mr. Potter."

He spurred the Shadowfax and disappeared out the stable door.

"Well, glad he didn't put us under any pressure or anything." said Draco dryly.

* * *

Saruman paced the main chamber of Orthanc, wringing his hands. He was anxious. He was more than anxious.

"Gandalf the White." he muttered. "Gandalf the fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?"

"There were six who followed the wizard." said a voice from behind him. Grima Wormtongue entered the hall, dabbing at an open wound on his mouth with a dirty handkerchief. "An Elf, a Dwarf and four men."

Saruman sniffed. "You stink of horse." he said as a greeting. Wormtongue turned to leave. "The men..." said Saruman, stopping him. "Were they from Gondor?"

Wormtongue shook his head. "No, only one. Boromir, son of the Steward I believe he was. Two were but boys, no more than sixteen. One with light hair and the other with dark. Strong magic they possessed. Perhaps disciples of Gandalf." Saruman growled under his breath. So, his Uruks had no only failed to bring him the Potter brat, but they had also failed to kill Malfoy.

"The last was from the North." said Wormtongue. "One of the Dunedain Rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was poor...And yet...He bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring the other, crowned with golden flowers."

Saruman froze. He knew that Ring. He stormed into his study and ripped a book off the shelf. He flicked through the pages until he found it. "The Ring of Barahir...So, Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's Heir, the lost King of Gondor? He is a fool! It matters not. The World of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras."

"Theoden will not stay at Edoras." said Wormtongue. "It's vulnerable. He knows this. He will expect an attack on the city. He will flee to Helm's Deep, the great fortress of Rohan. It is a dangerous road to take through the mountains. They will be slow. They will have women and children with them."

Saruman's eyebrows went up. He stood and beckoned Wormtongue to follow him. They went down to one of the deepest caverns. There, they found an Orc who looked as if he had been used as a chew-toy standing over a deep pit. And based on what was in the pit, this wasn't entirely unlikely.

"Send out your Warg Riders!" ordered Saruman.

The Orc grinned wickedly.

* * *

The caravan from Edoras slowly wound its way through the mountains. This part of the journey was actually somewhat enjoyable. They moved at a nice, slow pace, stopping for rest often.

At the moment, Gimli was regaling them with a bit of lore about Dwarves.

"It's true you don't see many Dwarf women." he said. "And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, haha that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."

Eowyn and Harry glanced back at Aragorn for clarification.

"It's the beards." he mouthed. They had to fight to keep from laughing.

Gimli continued. "And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women! And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

Eowyn couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

Fortunately, Gimli joined her. "Hehehe! Which is of course ridiculous…Aaaaahhh!"

Hasufel had suddenly reared and galloped ahead, throwing Gimli to the ground with a loud thud.

Eowyn laughed and ran up to help him up.

"It's alright!" said Gimli quickly. "Nobody panic! That was deliberate! It was deliberate!"

Theoden smiled. "I've not seen my niece smile for a long time. She was just a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by Orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her king in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man, who should have loved her as a father."

Harry sighed. The old man had the astounding ability to bring down any good mood.

* * *

Later, as they rested, Harry and Draco were looking for Aragorn, when came upon he and Eowyn and talking.

"My uncle told me a strange thing." she was saying. "He staid that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."

Aragorn nodded. "King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time."

She kneeled by him with an awed expression. "Then you must be at least sixty!"

Aragorn's face turned slightly red and he shook his head.

"Seventy?" she guessed. "You cannot be eighty!"

Aragorn sighed. "Eighty-Seven."

Harry and Draco gave each other astonished looks. Not only was Aragorn a King. He was nearly ninety years old with not a grey hair to show for it.

"You are one of the Dunedain." said Eowyn, guessing the truth. "A descendant of Numenor, blessed with long life. It was said your race had passed into legend..."

"There are few of us left." said Aragorn quietly. "The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago."

"I'm sorry." said Eowyn. "Please, eat!"

Eowyn turned and walked past where they were standing. They did their best to look as if they hadn't been listening. She smiled when she saw them and held up a steaming pot.

"Harry, Draco, are you hungry?"

Harry glanced at Aragorn who was vehemently shaking his head at them.

"Er...Just ate, thanks." said Harry. Draco nodded in agreement.

They walked up to him, where he was pouring out the remnants of a foul-looking stew into the grass.

"So, now you know." he said.

Their faces went red. "Sorry. We came looking for you." said Harry. "We weren't eavesdropping."

Aragorn smiled. "It is alright, my friends. I cannot be angry at your curiosity."

"If I may say so, mate," said Draco, "she has it bad for you."

Harry was about to elbow him in the ribs, but then, he remembered that Draco did not know about Arwen.

Aragorn's smile faded and he stared off at the mountains.

As they walked away, Harry went back to him and whispered, "It's alright. She'll wait for you."

Aragorn nodded, but Harry knew the Ranger didn't believe it, and frankly, neither did he.

Aragorn took out his pipe as the two young Wizards walked away. He chewed absentmindedly on the end, but did not light it. His thoughts were miles and miles away in Rivendell.

He was remembering a time right before he left with the Fellowship.

* * *

Aragorn awoke in his bed in Rivendell. He looked out the window and glanced at the moon. It's position told him that it was not even close to dawn. He sighed, also remembering what the next day was. 

He quietly slipped out of the bed, careful not to disturb Arwen as she did the Elven equivalent of sleeping.

He slipped down the hall, noting along the way that Harry's room was empty, and went outside.

He took an overgrown path which meandered seemingly aimlessly up into the hills. But he had a very specific aim.

At last, he reached the place. Before him was a statue, depicting a woman holding a child.

On its pedistal was the name Gilraen inscription, _Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim._ (I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself.)

He saw that in his absence, his mother's grave had been neglected and was rather overgrown. He spent several minutes clearing off the debris. As he did, a familiar voice spoke behind him.

_"Anirne hene beriad i chên în. Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen."_ (She wanted to protect her child. She thought that in Rivendell you would be safe.)

Elrond stepped up beside his foster son. "In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you'd never escape your fate. The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of Kings, but only you have the power to wield it."

Aragorn did not look at him, but instead continued clearing off the grave. "I do not want that power." he said. "I have never wanted it."

"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other," insisted Elrond.

Aragorn stepped away from the cleared grave and gazed at it.

He heard someone walking through the woods behind him and quickly deduced were Harry had gone.

"Perhaps it is better that there is no other," said Aragorn. "You heard Boromir during the council. 'Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.' Maybe Gondor is better off without me. I just want to live, Adar. After this quest is completed, I will return here and live out my life with Arwen."

Elrond said nothing in response to this. Aragorn looked at him. He could see that he was struggling with something.

"What is it, Adar?"

Elrond heaved a long sigh. "Our time here is ending." he said. "Arwen's time is ending. Let her go. Let her take the ship into the west. Let her bear away her love for you to the Undying Lands. There it will be evergreen."

Aragorn also sighed. He had suspected this might be coming for a long time. He knew that Elrond had never really approved of his relationship with Arwen.

"But never more than a memory." he said.

Elrond's face hardened. "I will not leave my daughter here to die."

"She satys because she has hope-"

"She stays for you!" yelled Elrond. "She belongs with her people!"

Elrond stormed away and Aragorn called Harry out from here he had been hiding. After his brief conversation with the boy, he went to bed, but he could not sleep.

As the sun peeked over the trees, he quietly dressed and went out to the courtyard where the Fellowship prepared to leave.

_"Nach gwannatha sin?"_ (Is this how you would take your leave?)

He sighed. He should have known.

_"Ma nathach hi gwannathach or minuial archened?"_ (Did you think you could slip away at first light – unnoticed?) asked Arwen lightly.

He did not return her affectionate tone. _"Ú-ethelithon."_ (I will not be coming back.)

She laughed. _"Estelio guru lîn ne dagor. Ethelithach."_ (You underestimate your skill in battle. You will come back.)

He shook his head. _"Ú-bedin o gurth ne dagor."_ (It is not of death in battle that I speak.)

Arewn had figured out that something was bothering him awfully. _"O man pedich?"_ (What do you speak of?)

Aragorn sighed and turned to face her. _"Edra le men, men na guil edwen. Haer o auth a nîr a naeth."_ (You have a chance for another life. Away from war... grief... despair.)

Arwen stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious. "Why are you saying this?" she asked.

"I am mortal; you are Elfkind. It was a dream, Arwen, nothing more." he said heavily. He held out his hand and opened it. He held out the Evenstar pendant for her. "This belongs to you." he said.

Arwen's eyes filled with tears. "It was a gift." she said. She closed his hand. "Keep it."

* * *

Aragorn put his pipe away and rolled out his cloak preparing to sleep, but as usual, it would not come. 


	13. II: When Wargs Attack!

((Well, everyone's been asking how I am able to update so fast, so I'll let you in on my secret. I write two chapters at a time. It's not hard at all, and it's usually by accident. I'll be writting, and I'll get a wee bit type-happy and before I know it, I have written twelve pages. "Probably best to split them up." I think. And then, I have to send the now seperated chapters to counciling for seperation anxiety, and it's a complete mess. Oh, could you all do me a huge fave? I've been trying to decide whether or not to make this slash. On the up side, it's Draco and Harry, every fangirl's dream. BUT, according to my brother, it could make it too complicated and could turn off alot of readers. But, I think that might just be my brother being a standard homophobe guy, (and really, what little sister ever REALLY listens to their brother) so I'll ask you all what you think. Let me know in your next reviews please!))

((I still don't own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings.))

* * *

Aragorn was silent and grim as they traveled the next day. 

Eowyn had tried to engage him in conversation sever times without much success.

"Where is she?" she asked at one point. Aragorn glanced at her. "The woman who gave you that jewel." she clarified.

Aragorn smiled sadly. "She is sailing to the Undying Lands with all that is left of her kin."

Eowyn nodded sympathetically, but Aragorn could not miss the slight gleam in her eyes. Draco's words came floating back to him. "She has it bad for you."

Up ahead, Harry also walked in silence.

"What's eating you?" asked Draco.

Harry glanced up. "What makes you think something is?"

"You've been withdrawn since we talked to Aragorn. What's up?"

Harry sighed. "I know you didn't know, but Aragorn is in love with Arwen. Has been for years."

Draco thought for a moment. "Wait...You mean Arwen, Elrond's daughter?"

Harry nodded. "I saw something the night before we set out." He related to Draco what he had witnessed by Gilraen's Memorial.

"So, Aragorn told her to leave just because of Elrond?" asked Draco. "The prat!"

They looked up suddenly. Hama and another soldier named Gamling were riding out of the formation and up over a hill. Legolas followed them.

A few moments later, a scream split the air followed by the sounds of growling and steel clashing against steel.

Aragorn dashed up the hill to see what was going on.

They saw Legolas draw and fire two arrows.

"A scout!" shouted the Elf.

"What is it, what do you see?" asked Theoden as he rode up.

"Wargs!" shouted Aragorn. "We're under attack!"

The villagers erupted into pandemonium.

"All Riders to the head of the column!" ordered Theoden.

Harry and Draco leapt onto Hrothgar and Wulfga and galloped up to where the Riders were assembling. They passed Boromir trying to lift Gimli up onto Arod as the Dwarf shouted, "Get me up there, lad! I'm a Rider!"

Theoden rode up to Eowyn preparing to mount her horse. "You must lead the people to Helm's Deep." he said.

"I can fight!" she argued.

"No!" shouted Theoden. "I already lost Eomer and Theodred. I could not live if I lost you as well. You must do this...for me."

Eowyn nodded resignedly and began directing the people to the lower grounds.

"Follow me!" Shouted Theoden.

The Riders spurred their horses and followed the King.

Legolas stood on the crest of the hill, firing arrows at a spectacular distance and hitting his targets every time. As Gimli galloped past on Arod, the Elf grabbed hold of the Horse and swung himself on.

_Show off. _thought Harry.

The Wargs were getting closer at an alarming rate.

Theoden sounded the charge.

Harry and Draco braced themselves as the two forces slammed into one another.

Both wizards were kept busy firing spells and crossing blades with Orcs.

Harry stabbed a Warg through the mouth and then sent an Orc flying with a well-placed banishing charm.

The battle lasted less than fifteen minutes before the decimated ranks of Orcs and Wargs retreated.

Harry looked around. Men, Horses, Orcs and Wargs were strewn everywhere, dead or dying.

He looked around for his companions. He saw Boromir and Legolas speaking with Gamling a short ways away. Draco was nursing a nasty-looking cut on his arm, but looked otherwise fine.

He could not see Gimli, but he followed the sound of Dwarvish cursing to where he lay trapped under the piled corpses of two Wargs and an Orc.

"Gimli, how did you get in this ridiculous position?" he asked.

"Please, do not ask." the Dwarf grunted. "Just help me move these."

Harry laughed and pointed his wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The corpses lifted high enough for Gimli to crawl out.

The Dwarf wasted no time in finding a still growling Warg to kill.

Suddenly, they heard Legolas call, "Aragorn!"

Harry looked around. He had nearly forgotten him. But nowhere did he see the Ranger.

"Aragorn?" called Gimli uncertainly.

A gurgling laugh drew their attention. They converged on an Orc who was coughing up blood, but still laughing manically. Gimli put his axe up to the creature's neck.

"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing."

"He's...dead!" it gasped. "Took a little tumble off the cliff!"

"You lie!" hissed Boromir, grabbing the shoulders..

The creature laughed once more and died.

Harry spotted something shining in the Creature's hand. He pried it out and his heart leapt into his throat. He handed it to Legolas. The Elf stared down at the Evenstar pendant, saying nothing.

The Fellowship ran over to where Theoden was staring down a high cliff, at the bottom of which lay jagged rocks and a rushing river.

Nobody said it, but they all thought the same thing. Nothing could have survived that fall.

"Get the wounded on horses," ordered Theoden to Gamling. "The Wolves of Isengard will return...Leave the dead."

Legolas's head shot up and he stared Theoden in the eye. He wanted to argue. He wanted to say that Aragorn wasn't dead. They all did. But they knew this wasn't the case.

"Come." said Theoden sadly.

After a few minutes, they left the cliff. Nobody spoke.

Legolas numbly helped a wounded soldier onto Arod's back. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a horse whinnying furiously.

He turned to find three men attempting to control Brego who was rearing up and would let nobody handle him. Legolas walked over.

"That horse is half-mad, sir." said a soldier. "There's nothing you can do. Leave him!"

Legolas took the horse's reigns from one of the men and began speaking softly in Elvish. Brego stopped rearing and looked at Legolas, though he kept jerking his head as if he wanted to escape. Legolas took his head gently and removed his saddle and harness. He instantly took off galloping. One of the soldiers tried to go after him, but Legolas stopped him.

"Let him go." he said sadly. "He has seen enough of war."

* * *

Eowyn walked through the gates of Helm's Deep gladly. The entire caravan had made it to the fortress, and it appeared that a large gathering of peasants and soldiers from across Rohan was there already. She was happy to see Eothain and Freda, the children who had ridden to Edoras to raise the alarm, embracing a woman who had to be their mother. 

She moved on to an area where people were sorting food.

"Where is the rest?" she asked.

"This was all we could save, my lady." said a man.

She sighed. There was barely enough to last the number of people they had a few days.

"Take it to the caves." she said.

"Make way for the King!" shouted a soldier. "Make way for Theoden!"

She ran to the courtyard where Theoden and a shockingly small number of men, most of whom were injured, were dismounting.

"So few..." she said. "So few of you have returned."

Theoden nodded grimly. "Our people are safe, but we have paid for it with many lives."

Something about the way he had said that and the look in his eyes alarmed her.

"Eowyn..." said a voice behind her. She turned to find Harry and Gimli approaching.

Their faces told her what she already knew, but she had to ask.

"Lord Aragorn...Where is he?"

Harry's green eyes filled with tears and he lowered his head.

"He fell." said Gimli with his voice cracking.

Eowyn gasped. She looked up at Theoden who would not quite meet her eyes.

She sat down hard and cried until her tears ran dry.

* * *

The remaining Fellowship followed Theoden as he issued orders to the troops. 

"Draw all our forces behind the wall." he ordered. "Bar the gate and set a watch on the surround."

"What of those who cannot fight, my Lord?" asked Gamling. "The women and children."

"Take them into the Caves. Saruman's arm will have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here!"

They left the wall and made for the Keep. But as they did, Harry noticed the small culvert at the base of the wall.

"King Theoden sir, this should be blocked up." he said.

The King shook his head. "No. There is a grate. They cannot get through there."

Harry sighed, but Theoden's tone told him that no matter what he said, he would just end up with another "I'm the king and you're not." answer, so he let the matter rest.

* * *

Miles away, wicked irony was laughing at the defenders of Helm's deep. 

"Helm's Deep has one weakness." Wormtongue was telling Saruman. "It's outer walls are solid rock, but for a small culvert at its base, which is little more than a drain, but it is blocked by a metal grate so that no enemies can enter it."

Saruman picked up a jar of what appeared to be black pebbles. "I do not seek to enter it. I seek to set the Fires of Isengard beneath it." he poured the contents of the jar into a large metal vessel.

"How?" asked Wormtongue, leaning down towards the vessel with a candle. "How can fire undo stone? What kind of device could bring down the wall?"

Saruman saw the candle and quickly grabbed Wormtongue's arm, thrusting him away.

"If the wall is breached, Helm's Deep will fall." he said, purposely ignoring Wormtongue's question. He walked out to the main chamber and walked towards the door to the balcony.

"Even if it is breached, it will take a number beyond reckoning, thousands, to storm the keep."

"Tens of thousands." said Saruman.

"But my Lord, there is no such force-" a loud horn blast cut him off. They had reached the balcony. He was so shocked at the sight which greeted him that he forgot to close his mouth. All of Isengard was filled with a sea of spears. Thousands and thousands of Uruk Hai waited eagerly below, howling in Black Speech or just howling.

Saruman raised a hand to quiet them. "A new power is rising! It's victory is at hand!" More cheers and howls. Saruman quieted them again. "This night, the land will be stained with the blood of Rohan! March to Helm's Deep! Leave none alive! To war!"

The Uruks went crazy and ths time, Saruman did not calm them.

"There will be no dawn," he said, "for men."

* * *

A battered shape floated down the river, not moving. It was, in fact, a man, albeit, a man who by all accounts should have been dead. He drifted lazily towards the shore. He lapsed every once-in-a-while in and out of consciousness. During one of these times, he saw above him, the face of one who could not possibly be there. 

"Arwen..." he whispered. She smiled and kissed him gently.

_May the Grace of the Valar protect you..._

Aragorn awoke and his first thought was, _Ow. _He had been kicked several times by an Orc, dragged across rocky ground by a Warg and finally, thrown over a cliff to hit the water fifty feet below. Needless to say, he was in pain. He closed his eyes, wanting to escape again into unconsciousness. But something wet touched his face. _Arwen_? he thought. But then, he heard an irritated whinny and something nudged him in the side. He opened his eyes. The mournful eyes of a horse stared down at him. "Brego..." he whispered. The horse whinnied again and kneeled down for him. Aragorn got up painfully and climbed onto Brego's back, not caring where the Horse took him.

* * *

Arwen smiled. She felt Aragorn's life-force grow stronger. He would be fine. 

"Arwen..." said a voice. She sat up. Elrond stood in her doorway. "Tollen i lû. I chair gwannar na Valannor. Si bado, no círar." (It is time. The ships are leaving for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late.)

"I have made my choice." she said.

"He is not coming back." insisted Elrond. "Why do you linger here when there is no hope?"

"There is still hope." she said.

Elrond sighed and went over to the window and stared out. "If Aragorn survives this war, you will still be parted. If Sauron is defeated, and Aragorn made king and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality. Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, Aragorn will die."

A vision suddenly came to her. She saw herself in a black dress, standing by a pedestal where an elderly Aragorn lay. He was obviously dead. Mourners were filing out, but she would not move.

Elrond's voice came in, disembodied. " And there will be no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of his passing. He will come to death, an image of the splendor of the kings of men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world."

The mourners vanished and Arwen saw that a stone monument had replaced the real Aragorn. Leaves littered the ground, and she stood at the foot of the monument, still in black and with a veil covering her face.

"But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt. As nightfall in winter that comes without a star."

Again the vision changed and she saw herself in Lothlorien, though the leaves had all fallen from the trees and the light of the Elves was gone.

"Here you will dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until all the world is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent."

The vision ended and Arwen sobbed with grief.

"There is nothing for you here." said Elrond. "Only death." He sat down beside her. "_A im, ú-'erin veleth lîn?_" (Do I not also have your love?)

She looked into his sad eyes. "_Gerich veleth nîn, ada._" (You have my love, father)

* * *

Elrond watched the population of Rivendell slowly walk out of the front gates. For now, the only ones who remained were himself, Eledan, Elrohir, Glorfindel and Bilbo the Hobbit. He saw Arwen turn back to him once more before also leaving. 

_I amar prestar aen... han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae a han noston ned 'wilith._ (The world has changed... I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air.)

The voice of Galadriel filled his mind. He knew that she would be watching to see what her granddaughter would do.

_The power of the enemy is growing. Sauron will use his puppet Saruman to destroy the people of Rohan. Isengard has been unleashed._

Elrond saw brief flashes of the treacherous Wizard standing over a Palantír and of a huge army marching across Rohan.

_This battle will test the mettle of the Fellowship greater than any task they have faced thus far. Will Aragorn rise to the task of leading Men into battle? Will Legolas and Gimli overcome their mistrust of the race? Will Boromir stand strong to defend Gondor's allies? And will Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stand for a world that is not even their own?_

Elrond saw each of the members of the Fellowship as Galadriel named them.

_The eye of Sauron now turns to Gondor, the last free kingdom of men. His war on this country will come swiftly._

Elrond now saw a dark shadow overtaking the ruined city of Osgiliath.

_He senses the Ring is close. The strength of the Ringbearer is failing. In his heart, Frodo begins to understand. The quest will claim his life. You know this. You have foreseen it. It is the risk we all took._ _In the gathering dark, the will of the Ring grows strong. It works hard now to find its way back into the hands of men._

A vision of Frodo and Sam, blindfolded and being led by a company of Men, now came to him. One, with dirty-blond hair and a face very similar to Boromir's led the group.

_Men, who are so easily seduced by its power. The young captain of Gondor has but to extend his hands, take the Ring for his own and the world will fall. It is close now, so close to achieving its goal._

Elrond walked to his library. He gazed at the painting of Isildur's battle with Sauron, remembering that day very clearly.

_Do we leave Middle-earth to its fate? _asked Galadriel._ Do we let them stand alone?_

_No._ Elrond "said" to her. _We cannot. If we do not trust in the strength of Men, we trust in the victory of Sauron. _

He went to Eledan and Elrohir.

"My sons," he said. "Get your armor and swords. Take the fastest steeds to Lorien."

They said nothing but nodded. It would always amaze him how the twins, despite what jokers they usually were, could be so serious when needed.

Elrond sighed. All of his sons were now preparing to risk their lives for the People of Rohan.

_I hope that we are doing the right thing,_ he said.

_Yes_, said Galadriel, _As do I._


	14. II: Hosts of Orcs and Eldar

_((This chapter's slightly shorter, but it's an important one. And if you look on my profile, there is a link to a bit of artwork I did for this story. If you want to see it, email me and I will send it.))_

_((I don't own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))_

* * *

Aragorn could not ever remember having so little energy in his entire life. He kept passing in and out of consciousness as Brego carried him. He was too weak even to look up at the Sun to gauge his position. Suddenly, Brego whinnied loudly. Aragorn looked up, and instantly, all weariness left him an adrenaline flooded his system. 

An army of Uruk Hai stretched back to the horizon below him.

"To Helm's Deep, Brego!" he said.

He refused to allow himself to feel weariness as he rode. Gandalf had been right. The meager number of troops who rode out of Edoras wouldn't last an hour against that many Uruks, especially after the battle with the Wargs.

At last, he saw it. Nestled within a ravine was the great fortress of Rohan.

"_Mae carnen, Brego, mellon nîn._" (Well done, Brego, my friend)

* * *

Harry and Gimli were in the courtyard, resting after helping with the preparations, when they heard hoof falls and an excited cry of, "He's alive!" 

They looked at each other. No way in hell could they mean _him_.

"Excuse me." Harry asked a villager. "Who is it?"

"It is the Lord Aragorn!" she said.

Gimli's eyes bulged. "Where is he? Get out of the way! I'm gonna kill him!"

He shouldered his way through the crowd. Aragorn stood beside Brego looking extremely beat up.

"You are...the luckiest...uncanniest...and the most reckless man I ever knew!" Gimli grabbed him in a tight hug. "Bless you laddie!"

Aragorn pried him off and clapped both he and Harry on the shoulder.

"Where is the King?" he asked.

Gimli nodded towards the Keep, unable to speak for his glee.

They followed him up the steps, where he nearly ran into Legolas. "_Le abdollen._" (You're late.) he snapped irritably. Aragorn looked at him curiously, but he caught a mischievous glint in his friend's eye.

Draco stood to one side with his arms crossed. "You look bloody terrible." he called.

Aragorn laughed out loud.

Eowyn's head snapped around when she heard this. She gasped and was about to run to him, but she saw Legolas place something in his hand. He held it up and she saw that it was the Evenstar pendant. She felt a pang in her heart at the grateful look on his face. He still loved the woman he had left behind. She went back to work, hoping that nobody noticed the tears in her eyes.

* * *

Theoden was conferring with Gamling, Erkenbrand and Boromir when the doors burst open and Aragorn walked in. 

"You know," said Boromir grinning, "For some reason, I am not surprised."

"How..." asked Theoden.

"There is no time." said Aragorn. "A great host of Saruman's Uruk Hai marches here. I saw them."

"A great host, you say?" asked Theoden.

"All Isengard must be emptied." said Aragorn.

"How many?" asked Boromir.

Aragorn sighed. "Ten-thousand strong, at least."

Everyone in the room gasped. "Ten-thousand?"

"It is an army bred for a single purpose; to destroy the World of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

"Let them come!" declared the King.

They followed Theoden out of the Keep.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall!" he said to Gamling.

"He can't be serious." said Draco incredulously. Aragorn hushed him.

Theoden then lead them outside the gate.

"We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deepening Wall, or set foot inside the Hornburg."

"This is no army of mindless Orcs!" said Gimli. "These are Uruk Hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad!"

Theoden glared at him. "I have fought many wars, master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own Keep!"

Gimli growled under his breath.

"I told you he's a git." whispered Draco.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on Rock." said Theoden. "Saruman's hoards will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. But crops can be re-sown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

Harry shook his head. This guy just did not seem to get it. "They're not coming to destroy your crops and villages." he said. "They're coming to destroy your people, down to the last child!"

Theoden whirled and grabbed his shoulder. "What would you have me do? Look at my men! Their courage hangs by a thread! If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

"Who will be left to remember it, though?" asked Harry. Theoden did not answer.

"Send out Riders, my Lord!" said Aragorn. "You must call for aid!"

"And who will come?" asked Theoden. "Elves? Dwarves? Wizards? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer!" said Boromir.

"Gondor!" growled Theoden. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gond-"

"Do you think that we do not have our own problems?" yelled Boromir. "Do you think that we sit in Minas Tirith doing nothing? We were sending our own sons to their deaths to fight Mordor when your people were but a band of nomads wandering the wilds! Were it not for Gondor, you would not even be here!"

Theoden glared at him but ignored his outburst. "No, my Lord Aragorn. We are alone."

This time, they did not follow Theoden. "He is just begging for me to curse him." said Draco. Noone found that they disagreed.

* * *

People had, by now, begun moving into the caves. The Fellowship were walking against the tide, trying to make a few last minute preparations for the debacle that this siege was sure to be. 

"We will place the reserves along the wall. They can support the archers from above the gate."

"Aragorn, you must rest!" said Legolas. "You're no use to us half alive."

"My Lord! Aragorn!" They saw Eowyn rushing towards them.

"I'm to be sent with the women into the caves!" she said, obviously displeased.

Aragorn sighed. He did NOT have time for this. "That is an honorable charge."

"To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return." she said. "What renown is there in that?"

"My lady!" said Aragorn firmly. "A time may come for valor without renown. Who then will your people look to in the last defense?"

"Let me stand at your side." she begged.

"It is not in my power to command it."

He turned to walk away, but Eowyn shouted, "You do not command the others to stay! They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you! Because they love you!"

Draco gave Harry a wry look. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Eowyn muttered, brushing past Legolas and Gimli as she ran for the caves.

The Fellowship made their way to the armory. Gathered there was a few hundred boys and old men.

Aragorn picked up a battered sword and sighed. He threw it down. "Farmers, farriers, stable boys. These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen to many winters." said Gimli.

"Or too few." said Boromir, looking at a group of boys who could not have been older then eleven.

"Look at them." said Legolas. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him. _"Boe a hyn: neled herain dan caer menig!"_ He continued in Elvish, not wanting to spark a mutiny. (And they should be... Three hundred against ten thousand!)

"_Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras."_ (They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras.) answered Aragorn.

"_Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir... ortheri. Natha daged dhaer!_" (Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!)

"Then I shall die as one of them!" yelled Aragorn. He stormed away. Legolas made to follow him, but Harry grabbed his arm. "Just let him go. He needs time to cool down."

* * *

Theoden stood, staring out at the soldiers milling about the fortress. Despite his posturing, he had never been less certain of any course of action in his entire life. Everyone was telling him that he was not doing the right thing. Gandalf, Boromir, Aragorn, even the two children, Draco and Harry. 

Gamling walked up carrying his armor. "Every villager able to wield a sword has been sent to the armory." Theoden did not answer. "My Lord?"

"Who am I, Gamling?" he asked.

Gamling was slightly taken aback, but he answered, "You are our King, sire."

"And do you trust your King?"

"Your men, My Lord," he said firmly, "will follow you to whatever end."

Theoden nodded. "To whatever end. He began to speak an old rhyme of Rohan, about Brego, one of Rohan's first Kings.

_"Where is the horse and the rider?  
Where is the horn that was blowing?  
They have passed like rain on the mountains.  
Like wind in the meadow.  
The days have gone down in the west.  
Behind the hills, into shadow."_

He finished and sighed. "How did it come to this?"

* * *

Aragorn's spirits were also low. He knew Legolas was right, but this was his destiny. He had to lead these people. A short ways away, he saw a young man glancing about nervously. He held a battered sword, which Aragorn realized that he recognized. It was the same blade he had scoffed at in the armory. 

"Give me your sword." he said.

The boy jumped slightly, but nervously handed it over.

"What is your name?" he asked the boy.

"Haleth, son of Hama, my Lord." Aragorn felt a pang in his heart. Hama had been the first to die when the Wargs attacked. Even if by some miracle this boy survived the battle, he would still be deprived of his father. "The men are saying that we will not live out the night." the boy continued. "They say that it is hopeless."

Aragorn stood and held the blade out. He whirled it around, testing its balance. "This is a good sword, Haleth, son of Hama." He handed it back to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "There is always hope!"

Aragorn left and went to the armory. He didn't care how hopeless the battle was. There _was_ always hope, and too much was at stake to run now. These were his people, and if he was to die, he would die as one of them.

He pulled on a long chainmail shirt over his tunic. Over that, he wore his regular Ranger's garb. He strapped on the dagger of Lothlorien and reached for his sword. He then realized that it was being held out for him. He took it with some trepidation, wondering if the Elf would try to again convince him to run, but Legolas smiled. "We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

The two friends embraced. _"Ú-moe edaved, Legolas."_ (There is nothing to forgive, Legolas.)

"Gimli, hold still! It's not going to fit!"

"Grrrr...We had time, I'd get this adjusted!"

They saw Harry and Draco trying to wrestle a chainmail shirt over Gimli's head. When they finally did, it fell with its length bunched up on the floor.

"It's a little tight across the chest." said the Dwarf.

"I would never have guessed." muttered Boromir sarcastically.

Suddenly, a shrill horn sounded from outside the fortress. "They can't be here yet!" said Draco.

Legolas grinned. "That is no Orc horn!"

They ran up to the courtyard where an army of cloaked figures was marching in, each holding an elegantly carved bow. The Elves of Lothlorien had come.

The Fellowship saw Haldir, wearing gold armor and a red cloak speaking with Theoden.

"How is this possible?" the King asked.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." Haldir said. "An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." He looked up and saw the Fellowship and smiled. "We come to honor that allegiance."

"Mae govannen, Haldir!" (Welcome, Haldir!) said Aragorn, dashing down the steps. Haldir bowed respectfully, but Aragorn wasn't having any of that. He embraced the Elf tightly. Haldir was stunned at first, but gingerly returned the hug. Aragorn grinned. "You are most welcome!"

Haldir managed to pry him off and turned to face Theoden. "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

"_Estel_!" called a voice. Aragorn looked up. It couldn't be! Eledan ran out of the formation to embrace his foster brother.

"_'Dan_, what are you doing here?" asked Aragorn. "_Ada _actually let you come?"

Eledan snorted. "As if he could stop us." He looked past Aragorn, spotting Harry and Draco. "Hello again, my friends!" he said.

"Good to see you, Eledan." said Harry. But where is-"

Suddenly, something impacted on his head, showering him with freezing water, and seconds later, Draco was hit too.

The two Wizards stood spluttering and shivering. The Rohirrim and Elves roared with laughter. Even Theoden could not help himself. Harry and Draco looked up to the wall above them. Ah. _That's _where Elrohir was.

"We call them water balloons. Extremely thin skins filled with freezing water. We saved them just for you two." said Eledan grinning.

"You have exactly three seconds to start running." said Draco, taking out his wand.


	15. II: The Battle of Helm's Deep

_((This is the chapter many many of you have been waiting for. Read to find out why. ;-p))_

_((I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))

* * *

_

Everything was set for the siege of Helm's Deep. The Elves and the Fellowship had been placed along and behind the Deepening wall. The Rohirrim were manning the walls of the Keep. All of the women and children were safe in the Glittering Caves.

Now all that was left was to wait.

Harry peered through the night. Far off, he could see twinkling lights from thousands of torches. Carried across the distance was the sound, _Boom, boom, boom, boom; _Thousands of feet hitting the ground in unison. Harry fingered the bow he held nervously. This was nothing like the battles he had been in before. Even though he had fought the Uruk Hai at Amon Hen and then at the Ford of the Isen, this was still entirely different.

"Grrr...You could have picked a better spot!" he heard Gimli growl. He looked over. The top of Gimli's head barely stuck up over the wall. The smile on Legolas's face told Harry that he had picked that spot on purpose. Aragorn walked over to check on the troops.

"Well, lad," said Gimli. "whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

A distant roar told them that the Uruks were drawing closer.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn." said Legolas.

"Let us hope that they last the night." muttered Boromir.

"Has anyone ever told you what a bright ray of sunshine you are, Boromir?" asked Draco.

Harry sighed. "At least things could be worse." he said.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Harry, we are standing here with about five-hundred Elves and three-hundred terrified men and boys about to face off against an army of ten-thousand creatures whose only purpose in life is to deprive us of our heads. Now tell me, how, in your mind, could this situation possibly get any worse?"

Harry thought a moment. "It could be raining."

Suddenly, there was a massive thunderclap and a flash of lightning right overhead. Thick raindrops began to fall slowly and then more steadily, finally crescendoing with a spectacular downpour.

"I almost predicted that just as the words left your lips." said Draco.

"Do us a favor laddie." said Gimli to Harry. "Stop heralding bad things happening. I'd rather be surprised."

Aragorn began pacing the wall, shouting out in Elvish. _"A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!"_ (Show them no mercy! For you shall receive none!)

Saruman's Army had drawn close enough for the defenders of Helm's Deep to see them clearly every time the lightning flashed. When there was lightning, all that could be seen was a seething mass of black, like ants swarming out of an anthill.

An animalistic growl sounded out from where the captain of the army stood atop a heel of rock.

"What's happening out there?" demanded Gimli.

"Shall I describe it for you," asked Legolas, "or would you like me to find you a box?"

Gimli blinked but then laughed.

The Captain roared again and the Uruks began beating their spears on the ground or else beating their swords on their shields or chests.

Suddenly, a single arrow flew from atop the Hornburg wall and struck an Uruk in the neck.

"_Dartho!"_ (Hold!) called Aragorn.

The army had stopped their intimidation and was staring at their dead comrade. After a moment, they began roaring with anger. The Captain thrust his sword in the air, and the Uruks charged.

"Here we go." muttered Harry.

"_Tangado a chadad!"_ (Prepare to fire!) said Aragrn. Harry and Draco didn't understand Elvish, but they got it when the Elves all drew arrows, so they did likewise.

"_Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc."_ (Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arm.) said Legolas.

"_Leithio i philinn!"_ (Release the arrows!) shouted Aragorn.

The Elves, Harry and Draco all released their arrows, felling piles of Uruks, but more sprang up to take their places.

"Did they hit anything?" demanded Gimli.

Arrows also flew from the Rohirrim, destroying even more Uruks.

"_Ribed bant!"_ (Full volley!) shouted Aragorn to the Elves behind the wall.

Harry literally felt the wind from the arrows passing over his head, but he ignored the mental image of him toppling from the Wall from friendly fire.

His entire thought-process became nothing but _draw-aim-shoot_.

"Send them to me, come on!" shouted Gimli. He got his wish as the Uruks began raising ladders against the wall.

"_Pendraith!"_ (Ladders!) shouted Aragorn.

Clinging to the top of each ladder were massive Uruks wearing only loin cloths and leather helmets. They carried swords as tall as they were.

Harry blasted one from atop a ladder with a banishing charm.

"Swords!" called Aragorn. The Elves instantly dropped their bows and drew long shining blades. Gimli caught one in midair with his axe as it leapt from its ladder. He slid on his back though the legs of another and killed it. He stood. "Legolas, Boromir, two already!"

"I've just made eight!" shouted Boromir.

"I'm on seventeen!" declared Legolas

"What?" yelled Gimli. "I'll have no man or pointy-ear outscoring me!" He whirled and slammed his axe into a Berserker's crotch.

Harry saw a ladder choked with Uruks and he got an idea. He pointed his wand at it. _"Reducto!"_

The ladder blew apart, sending the Uruks crashing down upon their friends. Draco got the idea and also began blowing ladders apart. But there were only two wizards and for every ladder they destroyed, two more seemed to be raised to replace them.

* * *

The battle continued thus for an hour. Gimli has positioned himself on the wall between two ladders and was chopping down Uruks as they climbed. "Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen!..."

As Harry took a moment's rest between waves, he looked over to the Keep to see how the Rohirrim were doing. Suddenly, he noticed something strange moving up the Causeway. The Uruks, instead of charging head-on, had their shields linked together in a tortoise formation. He knew enough about war to recognize that soldiers only did this when they were trying to protect something. He ran over and grabbed Aragorn.

"Aragorn, those Uruks have something under there!" he shouted pointing towards the Causeway.

Aragorn shouted to a group of Elves, "Causeway! Na fennas! Hado ribed! Hado!" (Causeway! Hurl to flow! Hurl!)

They began firing at the formation, but their few arrows could do little and another wave of Uruks sprang up to stop them.

Suddenly, a bright light drew Aragorn's attention. He looked down to where a Berserker with a sparking torch was dashing madly for the culvert beneath the wall.

He shouted to Legolas, "Togo hon dad, Legolas!" (Bring him down, Legolas!)

Legolas fired and hit his mark, but it kept running.

"Dago hon!" shouted Aragorn frantically. "Dago hon!" (Kill him! Kill him!)

Legolas's second arrow sank into the Berserker's heart, but it was too late. It dove through the culvert and a moment later, the whole middle portion of the Deepening Wall exploded. Legolas, Draco and Gimli were knocked off their feet while Aragorn, Boromir and Harry were thrown from the wall altogether.

Taking advantage of the confusion, the Uruks brought out what they had been protecting under the Tortoise Formation. A massive ram swung out at the Gates of the Hornburg. Men hurled themselves against the gates.

Down on the ground, Aragorn woke up in a world of pain. He shook his head to try and clear the stars in his eyes, and then, he saw the Uruks pouring through the breach in the wall.

Gimli leapt off the wall to try and hold them back, but was knocked off his feet.

Suddenly, he heard, "Charge!"

Boromir and the Elven reserves behind the wall leapt forward and slammed into the Uruk Hai lines. Aragorn joined in. He fought his way to where he had seen Gimli fall. He wrenched the Dwarf out of the mud, glad to see that he was alright. Legolas also chose that moment to join the fray. He grabbed a fallen Uruk's shield and slid it on the ground. He leapt on it and skated down the stairs, firing arrows into the enemy ranks. He finished by kicking the shield's spiked end into an Uruk's gut and stabbing another through the visor slit with one of his knives.

Boromir stood a short ways away, crossing blades with a particularly nasty Uruk who actually seemed to be trained to do more than swing his sword wildly. It reminded him of the Captain on Amon Hen and he wondered if they were related in some twisted Orc sense. Finally, he beat it. He turned to aid the embattled Elves, but was suddenly knocked off his feet as a Berserker hit his shield, shattering it. His sword flew from his grasp, and he winced, waiting for the killing blow. Suddenly, _"Averte Statum!"_ The Uruk flew into the wall where its head hit with a sickening crunch.

Harry ran over and helped Boromir up. "That's two you owe me." he said.

Boromir laughed. "Come. There will be plenty of opportunities for me to repay you back in the battle."

Draco had remained up on the wall, aiding Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir and the remaining Elves.

"Aragorn!" came Theoden's voice from the wall of the Keep, "Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!"

"Nan Barad!" aragorn called. "Nan Barad! Haldir, nan Barad!" (To the Keep! Pull back to the Keep! Haldir, to the Keep!)

Draco, Elladan and Elrohir ran down the nearest staircase. Draco caught a flash of Legolas and Boromir carrying a struggling and yelling Gimli towards the Keep.

Suddenly, he heard Haldir cry out. An Uruk had just jabbed the point of its sword into the Elf's arm.

"NO!" he shouted out, but he was too late. A second Uruk raised its sword and brought it down, slashing through his spine. Haldir's face froze with a look of shock and pain and he seemed to fall in slow motion.

Draco tried to run back to the wall. Elladan grabbed his arm. Draco tried to throw him off. "Get off! He might not be dead!" Elrohir placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Forget it, _mellon nin_. He is gone."

Draco stopped struggling. Elrohir was right. He paid silent respect to the fallen Marchwarden and turned to go. The three made their way to where a group of Elves were retreating along with Harry and Aragorn.

"Haldir?" asked Aragorn. Draco shook his head. Aragorn sighed sadly and kept running.

They made it into the Keep and Harry and Draco sealed the door with "_Colloportus _"

They ran to where the Rohirrim were trying to hold off the Uruks who had knocked a massive hole in the gate. Theoden was leaning against the wall while Gamling hastily wrapped a wound in the King's shoulder.

"Hold them until we can brace the gate!" shouted Theoden to Aragorn.

"How long do you need?" the Ranger asked.

"As long as you can give me!"

Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir snuck out a postern door while Legolas, Harry, Draco and the Twins along with the remaining Elves ran up to the wall. The Uruks had raised massive siege ladders against the battlements and the untrained recruits were being decimated.

Legolas and the Twins went above the gate while Harry and Draco went over above the entrance to the Glittering Caves. As they fought, they saw Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir holding ropes and being hauled up the wall by Legolas and the Twins.

Suddenly, they heard Gamling call out, "Fall back! Fall back!"

They took those soldiers who remained and made for the Keep, but they saw a mass of Uruks move in to block the way.

"Into the caves!" shouted Harry. The soldiers followed he and Draco to the doors. _"Alohomora!"_ shouted Harry. The Door flew open and he and Draco herded the men inside while firing spells to hold the Uruks at bay. Harry shoved Draco in and turned to fire one last spell. Suddenly, he gasped and stumbled backwards. Draco barely caught him to keep him from falling. The soldiers slammed the door and began throwing up a hasty barricade.

Draco dragged Harry into the light. The sight which greeted him made his heart stop. A thick black dart protruded from Harry's left shoulder. Harry's breaths were coming in gasps and he was extremely pale. Draco felt tears running down his cheeks, but he didn't care.

"Someone help!" he shouted. Eowyn dashed over. She gasped. "Harry!" She pulled off his shirt and felt around the arrow. "It is very deep. I cannot tell if any of his vital organs have been hit. Stay here. I will find a healer." She stood and dashed into the caves. Draco held Harry, his blood soaking Draco's robes.

Eowyn returned with a healer, an elderly woman. The woman removed the bolt carefully and examined the wound. "He is bleeding inside." she said grimly. "There is little I can do for a wound like this. I am afraid that he will not make it. I am sorry." she stood and left. Draco began sobbing. He didn't understand why at first. This was his friend, but the feeling he had now, he couldn't explain...Not at first.

Eowyn had no words to express her sorrow. He was, in a way, all she had left of Eomer and Theodred. And he was a good friend.

A loud crash sounded up the passageway.

"They're breaking in!" someone shouted.

Eowyn left to try and mount a last defense.

But Draco didn't care. He caressed Harry's face.

"Harry." he said softly. Harry's green eyes fluttered open and looked into Draco's grey eyes, and he understood. He realized what he had been seeking all his life. He knew what he had been missing. It had been here, in front of his face all along.

"Harry, I didn't understand before, but I do now. You can't die. You just can't. I lost you once and it nearly destroyed me. If you die here, I won't have anything to live for." He took a deep breath. "I love you, Harry. I've always loved you."

Harry stared at him, but tears were filling his eyes. Draco suddenly felt a strange warmth in his body. It filled him and seemed to flow out of him. Without realizing what he was doing, he put a hand over Harry's wound. The hand began to glow. He closed his eyes and spoke, though it was as if another's voice spoke through him. _"Harry, lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan nan galad."_

Harry looked up. He saw Draco there, glowing, but a grey mist obscured the room. Then, he saw it. Behind Draco stood someone else. The great Lord from his dream gazed at him. He alone seemed perfectly clear. He smiled and a rip of bright light formed behind him. He turned to go. Harry wanted to run to him. He knew that wherever this great Lord was going, he wanted to go too. He suddenly knew the Lord's name; Eru Illuvitar. He tried to get up to follow him, but the Eru's voice filled mind.

_You have much yet to do, little one. Go. He needs you. We shall see each other again._

Harry closed his eyes and opened them again. Eru was gone and the mist had vanished. Draco lifted his hand and gasped. There was no trace of a wound.

Draco's tears were now tears of joy.

"Thank you." said Harry.

Draco blushed. "I don't even know what I did."

Harry smiled. "You called me back. I saw it, Draco. I saw death. I wanted to go, but I heard you calling me. I heard what you said."

Draco looked away and bit his lip. "Oh...Look, we can just forget it if you want...I just...I mean...I mean, if you don't-" he had to stop as Harry's lips were now pressed against his. Time froze. His first instinct was to pull away, but he couldn't. And he realized, he didn't want to. This was right. This could not have been more right. He sank deep into Harry's kiss. He didn't care about anything else. The beating of the Uruk Hai against the doors was inconsequential. The screaming women and children didn't exist. All there was, was he and Harry, right at that moment.

Finally, they pulled apart and time resumed.

"Wow..." said Draco.

Harry smiled. "We should have done that ages ago."

The smashing against the door finally drew their attention. "So, what do you say?" asked Harry. "One last stand?"

Draco smiled. "One last stand."

They drew their wands and faced the door with the soldiers. Eowyn walked up beside them with her own sword drawn.

The door burst in, and the Uruks charged.

But right at that moment, a gargantuan horn-blast sounded. It echoed through out the caves. Everyone felt their hearts leap, and some cried, "Helm has returned! Helm Hammerhand has come back to defend Rohan!"

The Uruk Hai clutched their ears and cowered. The soldiers took the moment of distraction to make their charge.

* * *

_((Thank you all who suggested that I go ahead with the slash. It was much more fun to write.)) _


	16. II: Forth Eorlingas!

((Wow, a few mixed feelings about Draco and Harry. I know it was slightly rushed, but Harry was dying, and if you think about it, it exemplifies the story's title. And besides, I have been dropping subtle hints throughout the story. :-p))

((I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings.))

* * *

Every remaining man, Elf and Dwarf were gathering everything they could and piling in up by the door. Only Theoden stood aside. 

"It is over." he said. "The fortress is taken."

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it! They still defend it! They have died defending it! Haldir and Harry and Draco died defending it!"

Theoden refused to meet his eyes.

Boromir sighed. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Theoden did not answer. "Is there no other way?" he pressed.

"There is one passage." said Erkenbrand. "It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk Hai are too many!"

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!" Aragorn shouted.

"So much death." said Theoden suddenly. They looked at him. "What can men do against such reckless hate?"

Suddenly, Aragorn got a faraway look in his eyes. "Ride out with me." Theoden and Erkenbrand looked questioningly at him. "Ride out and meet them!"

A new spark seemed to awaken within the King. "For death and glory!"

"For Rohan." said Aragorn.

Boromir nodded. "For your people."

"The sun is rising." said Gimli.

Aragorn looked up. He suddenly realized that this was dawn of the fifth day since they had left Edoras.

"Yes..." said Theoden. "Yes! The Horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep...One last time!"

"Yes!" shouted Gimli. He dashed through the door which led up into the tower.

Theoden clasped Aragorn and Boromir on the shoulders. "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together!"

The Horses were brought out and every available Man and Elf mounted up.

Theoden put on his helmet and drew his sword. "Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!"

The door burst open at the same moment as Gimli blew one loud, long note on the Horn.

"Forth, Eorlingas!" shouted Theoden.

The Riders swept out, cutting down every Uruk Hai in their path. At the same time, soldiers issued forth from the Caves and gave battle to Saruman's proud army who fled in fear of their wrath.

The Riders and foot-soldiers swept out onto the Causeway, clearing it of all enemies.

Aragorn looked up to the East. "Gandalf...Behold!" he shouted, "The White Rider has come!" Every eye turned up. Gandalf was indeed there, his robes shining in the Sun's first rays. Shadowfax reared and whinnied loudly. The Uruk Hai now turned to face this new doom.

* * *

Gandalf looked down upon this. "Theoden King stands alone," he said. 

"Not alone." said a voice. He turned and smiled at Theodred. Eomer drew his sword. "Rohirrim!"

Two-thousand Riders now appeared at the crest of the hill. "To the King!"

They charged with a great shout down the hill. The Uruks planted their pikes to stop the Riders, but just as Gandalf reached them, he raised his staff and a wave of pure light shot out, combined with the first light of the sun. The Uruks screamed in pain and dropped their pikes to protect their eyes. They were now caught between the hammer and the anvil, for Theoden's soldiers attacked with renewed vigor.

Very soon, The decimated army was making a very disorganized retreat.

"Victory!" shouted Theoden. "We have victory!"

The Riders started to charge, but suddenly wavered. Where before, only grassy plains had stretched out from the Deepening Coomb, there now, a great forest loomed.

"Gandalf! This is wizardry indeed!" said Legolas. "Come! I would look upon this forest ere the spell vanishes!"

The Uruk Hai seemed not to care whether or not the forest had been there before or not. They fled into it.

"Stay out of the forest!" shouted Eomer. "Keep away from the trees!"

"But they're getting away!" argued Harry.

"No." said Gandalf smiling. "They are not."

Loud screams and great crashes sounded out from the forest. Not one Uruk Hai emerged from the other side.

* * *

So it was that in the morning's pale light, that father and son, Theoden, and Theodred met upon the Causeway. 

Theoden embraced Theodred tightly. "My son...Can you ever forgive your foolish old father?"

Theodred smiled. "There is nothing to forgive, father."

The Fellowship also reunited there. Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir were very happy to see Harry and Draco again. "I cannot say that I am surprised, though." said Boromir. "Nobody who is dead these days seems to stay thus."

They all found Gimli sitting on a dead Uruk Hai with his axe in its head.

"So," asked Harry to Legolas, Gimli and Boromir. "Who won?"

"Final count," said Legolas, "Forty-two."

"Forty-two?" asked Gimli with a very amused expression. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish Princeling." Legolas arched an eyebrow at this comment. Gimli grinned. "I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three!"

Legolas thought a moment, staring down at the Uruk Hai. Suddenly, he drew an arrow and fired it between Gimli's legs and into the Uruk.

Gimli looked down at the arrow and then back up at Legolas.

"Forty-three!" declared the Elf.

"He was already dead!" growled Gimli.

Legolas took on a mock-hurt look. "He was twitching!"

"He was twitching," said Gimli, "Because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" He jerked the axe handle around to emphasize his point, making the Uruk twitch madly.

"So what about you, Boromir?" asked Harry.

He smiled. "I only made forty, but I do not begrudge you the game, my friends. It was well played."

"What about you, lad?" asked Gimli. "You did not ask to join in the game, but out of curiosity, how many did you fell?"

Harry shrugged. "Not many. Though, if you count the ones who died when I blew the ladders apart, I make it to be...oh...say, around fifty."

Legolas, Gimli and Boromir gaped at him.

"You jest..." said Gimli.

Harry shook his head. "Hardly. Though, since I couldn't count the number of Uruks on the ladders, by adding that to the thirty-eight I killed by other means, I would say fifty is a rather conservative estimate."

"Beaten by a child." muttered Gimli, though he could not stop the corners of his mouth from turning up.

Gandalf summoned them over. "If you all are finished with your games, there is much left to do."

Boromir laughed. "It is good to have you back, Mithrandir. Once more, you come in the hour of need, unlooked for."

"Unlooked for?" asked Gandalf, frowning. "I told you that I would meet you here at this hour. Or has counting dead Orcs befuddled your brains that much?"

They looked at each other sheepishly. Oh yeah. He HAD told them.

"In any case," said Draco, "You are the most powerful Wizard I have ever seen. I think you would give Professor Dumbledore a run for his money."

"That may be," said Gandalf, "But if so, then I have not shown it yet. I have but given good council in peril and made use of the speed of Shadowfax. Your own valor has done more."

They all looked at each other then back at the dark wood.

"Yes," said Gandalf. "I see the wood as plainly as you, but that is no deed of mine. It is a thing beyond the councils of the wise. Better, even, than my design."

"If not your Wizardry, then whose?" asked Theoden. He glanced at Draco and Harry.

"Don't look at us." said Harry. "If we could do that, we wouldn't have been sitting in the caves."

"If you would learn the answer to your questions, you would come with me to Isengard." said Gandalf.

"Isengard!" cried many voices.

"He's mental!" declared Draco.

"There are not enough Men in all of Rohan, even if they were healed of all weariness and hurt, to assault Saruman's stronghold!" said Theodred.

"Nevertheless, to Isengard I go." said Saruman. "Any may come who like, and any who do not need not worry. We do not go to a battle but to a parlay."

* * *

In the end, it was decided that with Gandalf would go Theoden, Theodred, Eomer, Elladan, Elrohir, and the Fellowship. 

Gandalf only begrudgingly allowed them one night's rest.

"What of these unhappy Orcs?" asked Elladan, indicating the piles of corpses. "They are too many to bury or burn."

"Leave them." said Gandalf. "The morning may bring new council."

* * *

As the soldiers feasted, celebrating their victory that night, Harry and Draco slipped out quietly. Draco looked around before pulling Harry into a room and sealing the door behind him. 

Harry turned to ask Draco where they were going, but he found himself suddenly pressed between the wall and Draco's body. He hesitated a moment but then melted passionately into the kiss. They didn't stop until they had to pull away for air.

"This is mad." gasped Harry.

"Agreed." said Draco.

"So...Do you...want to move to the bed?" asked Harry.

Draco grinned. "Absolutely."

* * *

_Bang, bang, bang! _

Harry rolled over in his sleep. He was having an extremely pleasant dream.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Harry, get up!"

Harry sighed. "Coming, Aunt Petunia." he groaned, still half asleep.

"WHAT DID YE JUST CALL ME LADDIE?"

Harry awoke fully as Gimli's voice roared through the door.

"Sorry, Gimli. I forgot where I was for a minute."

"Well, get up. Gandalf is chomping at the bit for us to leave."

Harry looked out the window and groaned. The sun wasn't even up yet.

He rolled back over and blinked several times before he remembered why Draco was there and was not wearing no clothes, save his underwear. Come to think of it, Harry realized his clothing situation wasn't much different. He smiled and kissed Draco's ear gently.

He didn't even stir.

"Draco." he said. No answer. "Draco!"

He rolled over and muttered, "I'm 'sleep."

Harry sighed. He guessed it was going to be the hard way.

He grinned as he reached down under the covers and gave Draco's ass a good pinch.

Draco yelped in a most undignified manner and toppled out of the bed. Harry roared with laughter. Draco shot to his feet. "That was NOT funny."

"You're right." said Harry mock-seriously. "I wasn't funny. It was hilarious. Come on. Gimli says Gandalf's having kittens out there wanting to leave."

They got dressed and joined the rest of the group.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence." said Elladan.

"Don't you start today." growled Draco.

"So, I take it you two did not get much sleep last night." said Elrohir casually. Draco and Harry shot him withering looks. He laughed. "Do not worry. your secret is safe with us. Besides, we love the idea."

"Right smart match, you two are." said Elladan.

"Though mind you, you do owe us now." said Elrohir.

Harry sighed. "Do I really want to know more?" he asked.

"Probably not." the Twins said together.

At Gandalf's word, the company rode out. Harry marveled, as he rode out atop Hrothgar, that not one Orc corpse remained. The trees still stood there, even more menacing in the dim light of the early morning. A path through the trees seemed to open before Gandalf and closed again behind the last of the company.

Though they made it through without adventure, Harry was glad to leave the woods.

Legolas turned back for one last look at them and gave a sudden cry. "There are eyes! Eyes looking out from the woods!" He turned Arod and began to ride back.

"No, no!" cried Gimli. "Do what you like in your madness, but first let me down!"

"Stay, Legolas." said Gandalf. "Do not go back into the woods. Now is not your time."

Even as he spoke, three tall shapes stepped out of the trees. They were as tall as Trolls, yet their hide was like wood. Leaves and flowers grew out of them and their hands and feet were like roots. They turned and gazed north. Suddenly, they cupped their hands to their mouths and sent out loud, ringing calls. The calls were answered and soon, they saw coming from the north, five more of the creatures.

Eomer and Theodred went for their swords.

"You need no weapons." said Gandalf, "For these are but herdsmen."

"Herdsmen?" asked Theoden incredulously. "Where are their flocks?"

"The trees!" said Draco suddenly. "They're Ents! Shepherds of the forest! I learned about them in Rivendell!"

Gandalf nodded. "Yes, these are what some call Ents. All the long years of Rohan from Eorl to Theoden have been but a blink of an eye to them. For they walked Middle Earth first of all beings. Now, let us go on! The Road to Isengard is long and we have little time. For Sauron's wroth will be terrible at this defeat and swift will be his retribution. All our hope now lies with two little Hobbits, somewhere in the Wilderness. Frodo and Sam's quest is in their hands alone. We can do no more for them. Yet, our task is not nearly done. The Battle for Helm's Deep is over. The Battle for Middle Earth is about to begin."

**The End of Part Two**


	17. III: The Voice of Slytherin

_((Sorry this took slightly longer to post. This chapter has the most original content of any chapter so far, so it took me the longest to write. A few questions arose in reviews. _

_Anon, I wrote in Lothlorien that the Elves taught them archery. I figured it made sense for them to know a bit._

_poxmaker, They thought Harry and Draco were dead because the last they didn't know that the Wizards had escaped into the caves. Harry wasn't suddenly next to Gandalf. That was supposed to be after Theoden and Gandalf's forces had combined to drive the Uruks out. And, yes, the Trees of Fangorn coming to Helm's Deep was originally from the book, but it was also in the Two Towers Special Extended Edition DVD. And I realize I acidentally put Saruman instead of Gandalf. I was very tired by the time I got to the end of that chapter, so mistakes were inevetable. Wasn't the first. Definitely won't be the last. _

_I don't own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings.))

* * *

_

_Great_. Thought Harry. _More trees._

He sighed and spurred Hrothgar into the dark woods surrounding Isengard. Despite the help that they had given at Helm's Deep, everyone except Legolas, the Twins and Gandalf looked around apprehensively at the trees.

If they had been able to see it, two small figures sat atop the pile of rubble where the Gates of Isengard once were.

"It's good." said Merry, blowing a smoke ring out. "Definitely from the Shire. Longbottom leaf!"

Pippin nodded appreciatively and took a bite out of the salted pork in his hand. "I feel like I'm back at the Green Dragon." he said.

"Mmhmm, the Green Dragon." agreed Merry.

"A mug of ale in my hand." Pippin continued. "Putting my feet up on a settle after a hard day's work."

Merry arched an eyebrow. "Only, you've never done a hard day's work."

They started giggling madly.

Suddenly, Merry heard a horse's whinny.

"They're here!" he said excitedly.

Pippin laughed again and raised his mug in a toast as the company rode out from under the eaves of the woods.

Merry stood importantly. "Welcome, my Lords, to Isengard! We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, Son of Saradoc of the House of Brandybuck is my name, and this is my companion, Peregrin, Son of Paladin of the House of Took."

"You young rascals!" screamed Gimli. "A merry hunt ye've led us on, and now, we find ye feasting and...and smoking! Tell me where ye got the pipeweed, you villains! Bless me, I am so torn between rage and joy that if I do not burst, it will be a marvel!"

"You speak for me, Gimli," said Legolas, "Though I would sooner learn where they came by the wine."

"One thing you have not found on your hunt is brighter wits. You find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies and you ask us how we came by a few well-earned comforts!" said Pippin. "By the way, the salted pork is particularly good."

Gimli gasped and smiled hungrily. "Salted pork?"

"Indeed," said Gandalf, "And was it Saruman who ordered you to guard his damaged doors when your attention could be spared from plate and bottle?"

"No, my Lord," said Merry. "The matter escaped him. We're under orders from Treebeard whose taken over management of Isengard. He told us to greet the Lord of the Mark with fitting words. I have done my best."

The Riders laughed. "It cannot be doubted that we witness the meeting of very great friends." said Theoden. "So these are the lost ones of your company? The days are fated to be filled with marvels. Are these not the Halflings that some among us call Holbytlan?"

"Hobbits, if you please, my Lord," said Merry.

"Hobbits?" said Theoden. "Your tongue has changed, but the name is not unfitting."

"It is past noon," said Gandalf, "and we, at any rate, have not eaten. Yet I desire to speak with Treebeard. Did he leave me no message, or have plate and bottle driven it from your mind?"

"I was coming to that." said Merry. "He told me to say that if Gandalf and the Lord of the Mark would ride around to the north side, he would welcome them and they will find manfood, as he calls it, of the very best. And selected by your humble servants, I might add."

* * *

Gandalf and the King's company rode off, leaving the Fellowship to reunite properly.

Merry and Pippin greeted Draco and Harry with big hugs.

"We were afraid you had been slain by the Orcs." said Pippin.

Draco laughed. "No, we weren't. But it wasn't for lack of trying, I can tell you that."

They spent the next several hours recounting their tales in full. Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir and Draco told about their long run across Rohan and of everything leading up to Helm's Deep. Harry also told about his capture by Ugluk and of meeting the Rohirrim. But most fascinating of all was Merry and Pippin's adventure in Fangorn. They laughed at Merry's description of the Entmoot.

After the tales were finished, they climbed over the rubble to get a good look at Isengard.

"Not very cheerful, is it?" asked Merry.

"Look," said Pippin. "There is Gandalf and Treebeard and the others."

Harry and Draco gasped. The Hobbits' description of Treebeard hadn't done him justice.

They climbed on the horses behind Draco and Harry and picked their way over to meet the company in front of Isengard.

"I, for one, am hroooommmm glad you've come, Young Master Gandalf." Treebeard was saying. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

Everyone looked up at the cold black walls of Orthanc.

"Show yourself." muttered Aragorn.

"Be careful." warned Gandalf. "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"Well let's just have his head and be done with it." said Gimli.

"No!" insisted Gandalf. "We need him alive. We need him to talk."

"What is it that he knows?" asked Harry.

"He knows many of Sauron's plans." answered Gandalf. "If there is a way we can make him divulge them, we can be prepared."

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Theoden King, and made peace afterwards." said a deep, resonating voice. They looked up. Without warning, Saruman had appeared at the balcony. He appeared an old man, wrapped in white robes. He had a long face and deep-set, twinkling eyes and he leaned on a black staff. "Can we not take council as we once did, my old friend?" he asked. "Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Harry and Draco seethed. This was the bastard who was responsible for all of the hardships they had endured since they had arrived.

"We shall have peace." said Theoden heavily. Everyone gave him shocked looks, but he held up his hand to quiet them. "We shall have peace, when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, THEN, we shall have peace!"

Saruman's face turned red with anger. "Gibbets and crows! Dotard!" he spat. "And what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess; The keys of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad Dur along with the crowns of the Seven Kings and the rods of the five Wizards?"

"Your treachery has already cost hundreds of lives." said Gandalf. "Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the Enemy's council."

The treacherous wizard smiled. "So you have come here for information. I have some for you. Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth." said Saruman. "Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You're all going to die. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf? You cannot believe that this Ranger will ever sit upon the Throne of Gondor! This exile crept from the shadows will never be crowned King!"

Harry heard Pippin let out a small sob. "He's a liar, Pippin." he assured the Hobbit.

"A liar am I, Harry Potter?" sneered Saruman. "If I am a liar, I am nothing next to the one you follow. Has Gandalf, perhaps, told you that you have a chance of surviving this war? You would not have even survived the battle with the Dark Lord in your own world were it not for sheer dumb luck! If you had served your true purpose here, you would have returned with the power to defeat him!"

"It was you!" screamed Draco. "You brought us here!"

Saruman laughed. "No. I brought the other brat here. He was to serve a purpose. Your arrival was by your own folly, Draco Malfoy. But it matters not any more. As I told you, Gandalf leads you all down a path of lies. He does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him. Those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom?"

Harry saw a pained look in Gandalf's eyes. But...what Saruman was saying couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

Saruman smiled cruelly, seeing that his words had had the desired effect. "The path that you have set him on can lead only to death!"

"I've heard enough!" roared Gimli. He nudged Legolas. "Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob!"

"No!" said Gandalf. "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared!"

"Save your pity and your mercy!" he spat. "I have no use for it!" He raised his staff and launched a massive fireball which struck Gandalf dead-on. The horses reared back and everyone had to shield their faces from the heat.

But when the fire cleared, Gandalf sat there calmly, not even singed. "Saruman," he said, "Your staff is broken."

Saruman's staff began to shake violently before it exploded in his hand.

A cowering shape appeared behind the wizard, gazing fearfully at the group.

"Grima," called Theoden, "You need not follow him! You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan."

Wormtongue looked wildly from Theoden to Saruman, finally bowing to the king.

"A Man of Rohan?" spat Saruman. "What is the House of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Theoden, Horse Master! You are a lesser son of greater sires!"

Theoden's face fell, believing, as he always had, that this was true. "Grima," he called, somewhat weakly, "Come down. Be free of him."

"Free?" growled Saruman. "He will never be free!"

"No..." said Wormtongue, shaking his head.

"Get back, cur!" growled Saruman, striking Wormtongue to the ground.

"Saruman!" said Gandalf. "You were deep in the Enemy's council! Tell us what you know!"

Unnoticed, Wormtongue withdrew into Orthanc.

"You will withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided." said Saruman. "I will not be held prisoner here!"

Suddenly, something came hurdling down from a high window. It struck the railing in front of Saruman, crashed down onto the steps, cracking them and rolled into the water.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Saruman extended his hand towards Harry. Harry's wand flew out from his robed and into Saruman's hand. The treacherous wizard ran back, shutting the door.

Harry recovered first. He took Draco's wand the same way Saruman had taken his and leapt from his saddle and dashed into Orthanc.

"Harry no!" shouted Gandalf, but he was already inside. Gandalf made for the door, but it slammed in his face and nothing he said would make it open.

"What do we do?" asked Draco.

Gandalf sighed. "For now, we wait."

* * *

Harry walked warily up the long spiral staircase, hardly daring to make a sound. Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the air.

Harry broke into a run and came to the top of the stairs where there was a door in the ceiling. He burst in with his wand ready. He found was at the top of Orthanc.

Saruman stood over Wormtongue with the wand pointed at him. Wormtongue was screaming and convulsing on the floor.

"Let him go!" yelled Harry.

"In a moment. Worm threw away something very valuable to me." said Saruman. _"Crucio!"_

Wormtongue screamed again and flopped around like a fish out of water.

Harry was baffled. "How do you know the Unforgivable Curses?"

Saruman sighed and flicked the wand. Wormtongue moaned and fell to the floor. "Know them? I invented them you foolish boy."

"Invented them? But how? They were invented by..."

His voice trailed off. He remembered a time three years before. He was in the Chamber of Secrets, looking up at the huge statue. The long face, the deep-set eyes...

"You...You're Salazar Slytherin..."

Saruman smiled. "Very good. After that meddlesome mudblood, Gryffindor won our little battle, he destroyed my wand and I was left with nothing! I was forced to wander like a beggar. True, my heir would return and open the Chamber of Secrets one day, but what good would that do me? But then, I found the gateway. The only Palantir on Earth. It took me to this world. Of all my powers I had lost, I still had my voice. I can be very persuasive to those who are not prepared. Even those fools who fancy themselves gods believed me when I told them that I wished to help. I fashioned a staff instead of a wand and I found the way to imortality. I taught others, who I deemed were worthy, my powers. But my goal was always to return to my world some day. And now, I had the means. You see, I had learned of the Ring of Power. Ever I sought it. With its power, I would drive the mudbloods out of Hogwarts and establish my claim as Lord of the Earth. But, unfortunately, in my zeal to gain allies, I erred. I misjudged Gandalf's dedication to good. Too soon, I revealed my intentions to him. But still my plans proceeded. You see, I knew through watching in my Palantir of your defeat of my heir. And I knew that once he returned, only you could defeat him again. So, I took you out of his way. A gamble, to be sure, for if you ever did return, you would be more powerful than ever. But you will never return now. For I will end your life here and now! _Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry barely dove out of the way before a wave of green light flew past him.

He pointed his own wand. _"Expeliamus!"_

Saruman easily blocked the spell. "Come now, Harry Potter, You disappoint me. Gandalf holds you in such high esteem. Surely you can do better!"

Harry got to his feet. _"Stupefy!"_ Again, Saruman blocked it. "Godric would have been ashamed to have someone as pathetic as you in his House. _Crucio!_"

Harry could not dodge in time. He screamed and fell to the ground.

Saruman grinned. "A pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything. Goodbye, Harry Potter." he raised his wand. "_Avada..._"

Suddenly, his head jerked back and he gasped. Harry looked up. Wormtongue had thrown his dagger and it had stuck into Saruman's back. Even as the evil wizard stumbled backwards, he raised his wand and with his last breath, said, "_Avada...Kedavra..._"

Wormtongue screamed as a wave of green light hit him and he fell over, dead.

Saruman dropped Harry's wand and tumbled over the side of Orthanc.

* * *

The Company below barely had time to register that a body was falling before them before it was impaled on a spiked wheel with a sickening sound.

Gandalf sighed. "Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. The Enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike!"

The wheel gave a great groan and rotated slowly down. Saruman's body vanished under the water.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away." said Treebeard.

And so passed Salazar Slytherin.


	18. III: Party at Edoras

_((Once again, thank you for the lovely reviews.)) _

_((I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings. And Beautiful Soul is owned by Jesse McCartney. By the way, Jesse, I'm still waiting for you to ask for my hand in marriage. :-p ))

* * *

_

Harry stepped out of Orthanc into the bright sun, still slightly weak from the Cruatius Curse.

He heard Treebeard talking. "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees, wild trees."

Suddenly, Pippin saw something shining from under the water. Curiously, he hopped down off of Hrothgar and waded over to it.

"Pippin!" called Aragorn, but the Hobbit ignored him. He stooped down and lifted a heavy black ball of obsidian glass from the water.

Harry gasped. "That's what brought us here!"

Gandalf rode over to Pippin. "Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad. Quickly now."

Reluctantly, Pippin handed the stone over.

"I am afraid we must take our leave now, Treebeard." said Gandalf. "And I fear we must deprive you of your doorwardens as well. But I daresay you will manage well enough without them."

"Maybe I shall." said Treebeard. "But I shall miss them. We have become friends in such a short time that I think I must be getting hasty-growing backwards towards youth, perhaps. But then, they are the first new thing I have seen for a very long time. I shall not forget you, little Hobbits. And remember, if you see any sign of the Entwives in your Shire, send me word. Come yourselves, if you can, for you shall always be welcome under the eaves of Fangorn Forest."

Merry and Pippin bade Treebeard goodbye and the company left, making south towards Edoras.

* * *

A great feast was held as soon as they returned.

Theoden raised his glass and all assembled stood.

"Tonight," he said, "We remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"HAIL!" the crowd roared and downed their glasses.

* * *

Eomer stood by a large keg, filling a great many mugs with ale.

"No pauses," he said, handing a mug to Gimli, "And no spills." He handed one to Legolas.

"And no regurgitation!" said Gimli gleefully.

"So, it is a drinking game?" asked Legolas.

Gimli grinned. "Last one standing wins! Hehehehe!"

Boromir snorted. "Harry, care to test your skill?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "No thanks. I've never had a very strong stomach." He shuddered, remembering the first time he ever tried Fire Whiskey.

Gimli raised his glass and began gulping it down, followed closely by Legolas.

"A gold coin says the Elf goes down before the Dwarf." whispered Boromir to him.

Harry studied Legolas for a moment, noting the slightly amused look on his face as he downed the first glass. "I'll take that bet. I say Gimli goes first."

* * *

Ten minutes and many glasses later, the contest was still going strong, though Gimli was quite gigglly by this point. Legolas, on the other hand, was showing no signs of inebriation.

"Starting to sweat yet?" Harry asked Boromir.

The Gondorian laughed. "Gondorians never sweat."

Gimli leaned forward a bit to pass some very loud wind, eliciting riotous laughter from the crowd.

"Here's to Dwarves," said Gimli loudly, "that go swimming with little hairy women!"

"I feel something." said Legolas. "A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me!"

Boromir gave Harry a triumphant look.

Gimli roared happily. "What did I tell ye? 'E can't hold his liqueur..." Suddenly, his eyes crossed and he tumbled backwards with a crash, already snoring loudly.

Boromir gaped at Legolas who calmly set his glass down and said, "Game over."

* * *

Harry laughed along with the crowd as Merry and Pippin stood up on a table and announced that they were going to sing a song. They grabbed huge mugs and began their act.

_"Oh, you can search far and wide,  
You can drink the whole town dry,  
But you'll never find a beer so brown  
(But you'll never find a beer so brown)  
As the one we drink in our hometown  
(As the one we drink in our hometown)_

_You can keep your fancy ales  
You can drink 'em by the flagon  
But the only brew for the brave and true...  
Comes from The Green Dragon!"_

They finished by clinking their mugs together and downing the contents in one go.

Suddenly, Harry noticed someone who wasn't joining in the revelry. Draco stood to one side, scowling. He walked over to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." replied Draco shortly.

Harry sighed. "Draco, we're going to have to start being honest with each other. Tell me, what is it?"

Draco looked at him long before replying. "What you did today was really stupid. You had no business going after Saruman by yourself. What if you had been killed? You can't always run headlong into danger, expecting your amazing luck to save you."

Harry's face turned red. "Well what exactly am I supposed to do when nobody else will act?"

Draco sighed. "You are supposed to use your head. You've had amazing luck so far from the Sorcerer's Stone to the Tri-wizard Tournament. But that's only going to carry you so far before you get yourself hurt or killed. Promise me you won't scare me like that again."

Harry smiled. "I promise. So...do you want to?"

Draco grinned. "It does seem a shame to have all those empty rooms in this place going to waste."

They snuck around behind the crowd and almost made it out. However...

"And where do you two think you are sneaking off to?"

The voice of Elladan stopped them dead in their tracks. They turned slowly. The twins stood there with devilish grins on their faces.

"You still owe us." said Elrohir.

"And we've come to collect." they said together.

Draco sighed. "Alright, what do you want us to do?"

"Nothing painful..."

"Nothing grotesque..."

"Could be a bit embarrassing."

"But I suppose that's all up to you."

"You two are going to sing a song."

"For the entire crowd."

"Up on a table."

"At the top of your lungs."

Harry and Draco stared at them.

"You're joking, right?" asked Harry.

The twins shook their heads. "Afraid not."

"But if you don't want to, I suppose we could make you could parade around Edoras in naught but your skin." said Elledan.

"Now why didn't we think of that first?" asked Elrohir.

Draco held up his hands. "Wait, what if one of us sang?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah...wait...which one of us do you mean?"

Draco smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I really, really can't sing. Do it for me, Pleeease?"

Harry shook his head. "No way. If we're gonna...oh God...please don't do that. Anything but that."

But Draco had already pulled out his secret weapon. He made his eyes as big as he could and stuck his lower lip out slightly, giving the most irresistible puppy-dog face anyone has ever seen in Middle Earth or beyond.

Harry sighed. "Alright fine. I'll do it."

As Elladan and Elrohir walked away triumphantly, Draco kissed Harry. "I'll make it up to you later." he whispered mischievously.

* * *

"My dear people!" shouted Elrohir. "May I have your attention? Our esteemed friend, whose bravery saved many lives at Helm's Deep, has offered to regale us with a song of his own land."

The Rohirrim cheered and every eye was focused on Harry.

He cleared his throat and began to sing the first song that came to his mind.

_I don't want another pretty face  
I don't want just anyone to hold  
I don't want my love to go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul_

You're the one I want to chase  
You're the one I want to hold  
I won't let another minute go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul 

_I know that you are something special  
To you I'd be always faithful  
I want to be what you always needed  
Then I hope you'll see the heart in me _

_I don't want another pretty face  
I don't want just anyone to hold  
I don't want my love to go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul _

_You're the one I want to chase  
You're the one I want to hold  
I won't let another minute go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul _

_Your beautiful soul, yeah _

_You might need time to think it over  
But I'm just fine moving forward  
I'll ease your mind  
If you give me the chance  
I will never make you cry, c'mon let's try _

_I don't want another pretty face  
I don't want just anyone to hold  
I don't want my love to go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul_

You're the one I want to chase  
You're the one I want to hold  
I won't let another minute go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul 

_Am I crazy for wanting you  
Baby, do you think you could want me too  
I don't wanna waste your time  
Do you see things the way I do  
I just wanna know did you feel it to  
There is nothing left to hide _

_I don't want another pretty face  
I don't want just anyone to hold  
I don't want my love to go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul _

_You're the one I want to chase  
You're the one I want to hold  
I won't let another minute go to waste  
I want you and your soul _

As he finished, Harry waited for rotten vegetables, or jeers, or even stony silence.

But the last thing he expected was for the room to erupt into applause like fans at a concert.

He gave a bow and jumped off the table.

Eowyn ran up to him smiling. "Harry, that was quite beautiful. Why did you not tell us that you had such an amazing voice? Your world must be a wonderful place for songs to be made about love instead of drinking or glory in battle."

Elladan and Elrohir walked up with Draco and the Twins gave low, sweeping bows.

"Absolutely spiffing, mate."

"Brilliant."

"Brought a tear to my eye."

"The debt is repaid."

"Absolutely."

"Your secret is safe with us."

Harry and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Eowyn raised an eyebrow. "Debt? Secret? This would not have anything to do with what happened between them at Helm's Deep would it?"

Harry and Draco's faces went white and they slowly turned to Elladan and Elrohir.

"Oh, one thing we should have mentioned." said Elrohir.

"Just a tiny detail."

"Didn't figure it was all that important."

"But we should probably tell you."

"Everyone knows."

"Everyone."


	19. III: The Palantir

_((I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this. I had some extremely hard choices to make about where I'm taking this story in this chapter. It may not seem like it now, but the entire plot of this story from here-on-out hinges on this chapter. I hope I made the right choice.))

* * *

_  
Fortunately, nobody seemed to hold Harry and Draco's relationship against them. But that still didn't save Elladan and Elrohir from spending the evening under the _Tarantallegra _curse.

By midnight, everyone was either too tired or too drunk to continue with the celebration, so the crowd dispersed.

Legolas and Aragorn had to cart the still passed-out Gimli into one of the bedrooms where sleeping mats had been set up.

Draco sighed as Men came in and claimed places to sleep. "Looks like we're not going to get much privacy." he yawned. "I'm pretty tired anyways. G'night, Harry." Harry wished him a good night, and lay down on a mat, but he wasn't ready to sleep yet. For some reason, something on the edge of his thoughts was keeping him awake.

After about two hours, he finally gave up on sleep and left the room.

As he passed, Pippin stirred and awoke suddenly.

Instantly, his thoughts went to the black stone tucked under Gandalf's arm.

_Just think about something else. Count sheep or something,_ the Hobbit thought to himself.

* * *

Harry walked quietly out through the main chamber, where he saw Eowyn curled up, asleep on a couch by the fire-pit.

"It appears that I am not the only one unable to sleep." said a voice.

Aragorn emerged into the great hall. Harry shushed him and pointed to Eowyn.

Eowyn shivered slightly in her sleep. Harry poked the embers of the fire while Aragorn gently tucked Eowyn's blanket closer about her.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

Aragorn smiled. "Not yet dawn."

He moved to leave, but Eowyn reached up and took his hand.

"I dreamed I saw a great wave, climbing over green lands and above the hills. I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark in the abyss before my feet. A light shone behind me, but I could not turn. I could only stand there waiting."

Harry saw that tears were in her eyes.

"Night changes many thoughts." said Aragorn. "Sleep, Eowyn...Sleep while you can."

She nodded and closed her eyes. Aragorn silently motioned for Harry to follow him.

They stepped out of the Hall and onto the terrace.

"What was that all about?" asked Harry.

Aragorn shrugged. "I do not know. It sounds almost like the story of the Fall of Numenor, when the Valar sent a great wave to destroy the corrupt Men of the land. But I believe there is more to it than that."

Suddenly, they noticed that they were not alone. A cloaked figure stood with his back to them, gazing to the southeast.

Harry smiled. "Doesn't anyone sleep around here, Legolas?"

The Elf didn't answer, but continued to stare at the horizon. "The stars are veiled." he said finally, though he sounded distant. "Something stirs in the east; A sleepless malice." At last, he looked at them. "The Eye of the Enemy is moving."

* * *

Pippin at last gave up on sleep. After all, what was the harm in just looking at the stone. It wasn't as if he knew how to make it do...whatever it was that it did.

He stood as quietly as he could and tiptoed towards Gandalf's sleeping form.

"What'r you doin'?"

Pippin spun, ready to defend himself against accusations, but he just saw Merry looking at him sleepily.

He shushed his friend and turned back to get his prize. But he nearly yelled out when he saw that Gandalf was staring at him. He stepped back to return to his bed, but the Wizard's eyes didn't follow him. He cautiously stepped up and waved his hand in front of Gandalf's face.

_Leave it to Gandalf to learn to sleep with his eyes open._ he thought. He reached for the stone, but then had the thought that Gandalf might wake, noticing its absence.

"Pippin!" hissed Merry. Again, he ignored him.

Pippin spotted a large, empty water jug and picked it up.

Suddenly, Gandalf muttered in his sleep. Pippin had to again bite his tongue to keep from yelling.

The Wizard grunted and began to snore slightly.

Pippin grinned and quickly pulled a switch, replacing the stone with the jug. Satisfied with his bit of thievery, Pippin darted back over to his bed roll and began to eagerly unwrap the stone.

"Pippin, are you mad?" demanded Merry.

"I just want to look at it one more time!" Pippin responded.

"Put it back!" ordered Merry sharply.

But it was too late. Pippin stared into the stone's murky depths.

He stretched his hands towards it like a greedy child reaching for candy. But as soon as his fingertips caressed its surface, it became filled with fire. Pippin saw a strange vision, and then, _He _appeared.

**_What is your name?_** He asked.

Pippin tried to pull away, but his hands were glued to the stone.

He laughed and said, **_I SEE YOU!_**

Pippin jerked back and fell, convulsing to the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream.

* * *

Legolas rocked back, as it slapped. Aragorn and Harry had to stop him from falling. "He is here!" the Elf gasped.

It took Aragorn and Harry a moment to process the weight of this.

"The Stone!" said Harry.

Merry had no idea what to do. "Help!" he called.

Draco, who was closest, awoke suddenly. Instantly processing what was happening, he lunged forward and ripped the Stone from the Hobbit's hands.

Sauron's malice swept through him for the second time in his life. The Dark Lord laughed.

**_We meet again. Good. Very good._**

Harry, Aragorn and Legolas burst into the room.

"No!" screamed Aragorn.

Harry aimed a banishing charm at the Stone, causing it to fly out of Draco's hands.

Gandalf leapt up from his bed and flew across the room, throwing a blanket over the Stone. "Fool of a Took!" he roared, ready to turn Pippin into a toad. But he gasped when he saw the Hobbit lying on the floor, as if dead.

He shoved Merry out of his way and kneeled over Pippin. He placed a hand on his brow and muttered an Elvish healing spell.

Harry, meanwhile was helping Draco to his feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No." Draco responded, "But I will be."

Pippin gasped suddenly and awoke.

"Look at me." said Gandalf.

"Gandalf..." whispered Pippin. "Forgive me..."

He closed his eyes and seemed to be drifting off again. "Look at me!" repeated Gandalf. "What did you see?"

"There was a tree..." the Hobbit said. "A white tree...in a courtyard of Stone..."

"It was dead..." said Draco in a haunted tone. "The city was burning..."

Gandalf's eyes widened in recognition. "Minas Tirith...Is that what you saw?"

"I saw...I saw _Him_!" whimpered Pippin. Gandalf's face contorted in fear. "I could hear His voice in my head." continued Pippin.

"And what did you tell him?" said Gandalf sharply. "Speak!"

"He asked me my name. I didn't answer. He hurt me."

"The same happened to me when I first picked up the Stone in our world. This time, He only said, _'We meet again. Good, very good.'_"

"And what did either of you tell Him about Frodo and the Ring?" demanded Gandalf.

"Nothing, Gandalf." said Pippin. "I didn't tell Him anything!"

"I didn't have time to tell Him anything." said Draco.

Gandalf gazed into both of their eyes for a long time. "Very well." he said. "Boromir, go wake the King. Tell him we must confer immediately."

Boromir nodded and left the room. As soon as everyone was gone, Harry hugged Draco tightly. "I'm so sorry, Draco. Nobody should have to endure that twice in one lifetime."

Draco sighed. "I don't know what came over me. I knew not to touch that damn Stone, but I was still half-asleep. I didn't think about what I was doing."

Harry kissed him. "It's over. Let Gandalf worry about Sauron for now."

* * *

"There was no lie in Pippin and Draco's eyes." said Gandalf as the Fellowship conferred with Theoden in the main hall. "Fools, but honest fools they remain. They told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring."

Theoden and Gimli, (who slept through the entire thing) breathed sighs of relief.

"We have been strangely fortunate." continued Gandalf. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith."

Everyone looked very grim at this revelation.

"I don't understand. Why is that so bad?" asked Harry.

"It is bad," said Boromir, "Because Minas Tirith is the last bastion of defense keeping Sauron's hoards from sweeping all over Middle Earth. We should have guessed that would be his plan, but we assumed that his first major blow would be against the Elves, his bitter enemies of old. But it was a Man of Gondor who defeated him before. How could we have been so stupid?"

"You mustn't blame yourself, Boromir." said Gandalf. "Even I did not see this coming. And his original plan may, indeed, have been to strike at the Elves, however, the defeat of Isengard at Helm's Deep has shown Him several key things. He knows the Heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage, still and strength, perhaps, enough to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before He sees a King return to the Throne of Men. If the Beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war!"

Theoden raised his head and set his jaw in a look that they knew all too well. "Tell me," he said, "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

"Oh for the love of god!" screamed Harry, making everyone jump. "What is your problem? You didn't ask for Gondor's help, you bloody git!"

"Harry, that is enough!" snapped Gandalf.

"No, it isn't!" said Harry. "Theoden, I know I'm not the King of Rohan, so you don't have to remind me of that fact, _again_. But if you don't help Gondor, your people who you profess to care about are going to die. It's as simple as that."

In a very uncharacteristic move, Theoden said nothing in response. He just stared at his feet.

"I will go!" said Boromir.

"As will I!" agreed Aragorn.

"No!" insisted Gandalf.

"They must be warned!" said Aragorn.

"They will be." assured Gandalf. He stepped close to Aragorn and lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the River. Look to the Black Ships." Aragorn gave him a quizzical look, but Gandalf would say no more on the matter. "Understand this," he said. "Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith..." he turned and fixed a pointed stare on Pippin. "And I won't be going alone."

"You want me to go?" squeaked Pippin.

Gandalf nodded. "And, I believe, you should come too, Draco."

Draco swallowed and nodded.

"I'm coming too then!" said Harry.

"No!" said Gandalf. "Your path lies with Aragorn. He will need you before this is over."

"I'm not leaving Draco!" yelled Harry.

"No." said Draco quietly. "You have to stay, Harry."

Harry gave him a shocked look and tears formed in his eyes.

Gandalf's face softened. "Perhaps we can spare the both of you a few moments alone."

Gandalf ushered the Hobbits outside, saying, "Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst!"

Draco cupped Harry's face is his hands and wiped away his tears. "We will see each other again, I promise."

"How do you know that?" Harry sobbed. "That place is about to fall under attack. What if you're killed?"

Draco smiled. "Even death can't stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a little while."

Harry half laughed, half sobbed and they kissed deeply.

"Draco, it is time."

Gandalf stood in the doorway.

Draco nodded and they followed him out. Pippin was already there, sitting awkwardly on Shadowfax's back. Wulfga was also there, attempting to look as noble as the Lord of the Meras. Draco got up into the saddle. Without another word, he and Gandalf spurred their horses and galloped down the road and out the front gates of Edoras.

* * *

Harry saw a small figure dashing up towards one of the guard towers. He followed Merry, and together, they watched the two riders growing smaller and smaller.

"He's always followed me." said Merry. "Even before we were tweens. I would get him into the worst sort of trouble. But I was always there to get him out...And now he's gone."

Harry smiled. "You love him."

Merry looked at Harry and then back at the dot on the horizon. "Yes...I suppose I do. And do...do you love Draco?"

Harry smiled. "With every fiber of my being."


	20. III: Minas Tirith

_((Nothing reallt to say. Enjoy the new chapter!))

* * *

_

Arwen rode through the forests of Eregion, part of the long entourage who left Imladris. Every mile she got further from Rivendell, the incredible sense of wrongness she felt deepened.

She knew that this was not her fate. Her destiny was to be with Aragorn. She had known that since the day she met him.

Yet, here she was, leaving Middle Earth...and him...forever.

Up ahead, she saw a young boy running out of the line. She nearly called out, believing him to be someone's son, but nobody else seemed to notice him. As she watched, he ran into a room of white marble which definitely should not have been sitting in the middle of the forest.

She saw a man with graying hair turn and scoop the boy into his arms, laughing and with love in his eyes that only a father could show.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked upon Aragorn and her own son.

She closed her eyes and heard the words her father had spoken to her days before.

_There is nothing for you here. Only death._

But that wasn't true.

"Lady Arwen."

She opened her eyes. An Elf was looking at her.

"We cannot delay."

Without a second thought, she turned her horse and galloped at full speed back down the road, ignoring the Elf's protests.

A few hours later, she arrived in the hidden valley of Rivendell and galloped up to the House.

She knew exactly where she would find her father. She strode into his study. "Tell me what you have seen!" she demanded.

"Arwen!" declared Elrond.

"You have the gift of foresight." she said. "What did you see?"

He sighed. He had hoped that she would not share his visions, but he had been wrong. "I looked into your future and I saw death!" he said.

"But there is also life. You saw there was a child. You saw my son!" she said.

He turned and gazed out the window. "That future is almost gone."

"But it is not yet lost."

Elrond sighed and sat heavily. "Nothing is certain."

Arwen took his face in her hand. "Some things are certain. If I leave him now, I will regret it forever. It is time."

Elrond furrowed his brow.

A voice suddenly began to speak.

_All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost.  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
A light from the shadows shall spring.  
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,  
The crownless again shall be King._

Elrond looked up as Bilbo walked in, leaning on his cane.

"Not very good perhaps, but you understand it's meaning. Lord Elrond, my old friend, the Lady is right. The time for the Dunedan to accept his fate is long overdue."

Arwen nodded. "Reforge the Sword, _ada_."

Elrond looked at both of them and turned away.

Suddenly, Arwen put a hand over her heart and fell into a chair.

Elrond and Bilbo both rushed over to her.

Elrond took her hands in his. "Your hands are cold...The life of the Eldar is leaving you..."

She smiled weakly. "This was my choice. _Ada_, whether by your will or not, there is no ship now that can bear me hence."

Elrond stood and looked at Bilbo.

The Hobbit offered him a sad smile. "I will ask Glorfindel to heat the forges."

* * *

Draco, Gandalf and Pippin had ridden hard and fast for three days. Draco could tell that Wulfga was tiring, but Shadowfax's presence kept him going.

"We have just passed into the realm of Gondor!" shouted Gandalf.

Suddenly, as they rode up over a hill, they saw it.

"Minas Tirith; City of Kings." said Gandalf.

Draco was awed. The city was built at the end of a chain of mountains and rose seven levels high, each level surrounded by imposing walls of white stone. A tall white tower rose from the top a glimmered like a spike of pearl and silver in the morning sun.

* * *

They were admitted as soon as the guards at the gate saw Gandalf, but many gave Draco and Pippin quizzical looks.

Hardly slowing their pace, Gandalf led them up and around each level until they reached the very top. They dismounted here and Guards came to lead the horses to stables.

Draco looked around the courtyard. The tower stood to one side, tall and imposing. Set back into the face of the mountain was a grand citadel. It was towards this that Gandalf led them. In the center of the courtyard, a gilded fountain stood, trickling merrily, as if unaware of the grim times it was in. But over the fountain stood a white tree, drooping and devoid of leaves or flowers.

"It's the tree!" declared Pippin. "Gandalf!"

"Yes," said Gandalf, "The White Tree of Gondor, the Tree of the King. Lord Denethor, however, is not King. He is a Steward only; a caretaker of the Throne." The Wizard stopped and stared sharply at Pippin. "Now, listen carefully. Theoden was kind to you and Meriadoc, but Denethor is of a different sort, proud and subtle. He is Boromir's father. He will not stand for idle speech, and can pick out of the speech of men many things unsaid, so say nothing of Aragorn. And do not mention Frodo or the Ring...In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took."

Pippin nodded glumly.

"What should I do, Gandalf?" asked Draco.

"Say no more than you must. Denethor will likely question you about Boromir's doings, since you have been with him since the beginning, but still say little or nothing of Aragorn and Frodo."

The guards opened the doors to the Citadel as they approached, and they entered.

The place was a long hall, as Meduseld was, but there were no further similarities. Unlike Meduseld, this place was devoid of any hangings or decorations. Everything was of white and black. High windows gave light, but did little to break the hard, cold feeling of the place.

In deep alcoves to either side, stood statues of past kings, tall and with grim faces.

At the end of the hall was a high dias, at the top of which was a gilded throne of white, behind which was the carven image of a tree in flower. But the throne was empty.

On the lowest step of the dias was a black chair, unadorned. On it sat an old man, gazing into his lap. He did not look up as they walked towards him.

When they stood three paces from the seat, Gandalf spoke.

"Hail Denethor, Son of Echthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor."

Denethor still did not look up.

Gandalf cleared his throat and said, "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with council."

"Perhaps you come to explain this." said Denethor. He picked up what he had been staring at, a great horn cloven in two. Draco suddenly recognized it as the horn Boromir had worn before it was cloven during the battle with the Uruk Hai. He remembered Boromir throwing it into the river. But why was Denethor upset about that? "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead?" he said.

"Dead?" asked Gandalf. "Lord Denethor, your son lives. He is in Rohan as we speak."

Denethor glared at him. "Do not try to assuage my grief with lies, Mithrandir. Do I not know my own son? Were he alive, he would not remain abroad while his city was in need. He was loyal to me."

"But I have seen him!" said Pippin suddenly.

"Peregrin Took!" Gandalf said sharply, but Pippin ignored him and knelt before Denethor.

"I have traveled far and wide with him. Many times has he saved my life. I have had no opportunity to repay him, so I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."

The faint ghost of a smile crossed Denethor's face.

Gandalf sighed and lightly hit Pippin with the end of his staff. "Get up! My Lord, even if Boromir were dead, the time to grieve for him would not be now. War is on your doorstep. As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies?"

Denethor glared at him.

"You still have allies." said Gandalf. "You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Theoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."

Denothor snorted derisively. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, but for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know! With your left hand, you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your right, you would seek to supplant me! I know who rides with Theoden of Rohan. Oh yes. Word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, Son of Arathron and I tell you now, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North. Last of a ragged house, long bereft of lordship."

"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, _Steward_." said Gandalf icily.

Denethor shot up from his seat. "Rule of Gondor is mine and no other's!" he shouted.

He and Gandalf glared daggers at each other for a moment before Gandalf turned on his heel and strode away. Draco and Pippin quickly followed him.

"All has turned to vain ambition!" said Gandalf angrily. "He would even use his grief as a cloak!"

As they walked out the doors, Gandalf continued. "A thousand years, this city has stood. And now, at the whim of a madman, it will fall. And the Tree, the White Tree of the King, will never bloom again."

"Why are they still guarding it then?" asked Draco, indicating the four guards who were positioned around the fountain.

"They guard it because they have hope." said Gandalf, "Faith and fading hope that one day, it will flower, that the King will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay."

"What happened to it?" asked Draco. "Why did it fall into decay?"

Gandalf sighed. "After the death of Isildur, the old wisdom borne out of the West was forsaken. The Kings who came after made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons. Childless Lords sat in aged halls, musing on heraldry, or in high, cold towers, asking questions of the stars. And so, the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of Kings failed. The White Tree withered. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men."

Pippin walked slowly to the edge of the wall and gazed out. Filling the view was an imposing sight. Tall black mountains rose up sharply from the plains. Behind them could be seen a deep red glow, like a raging inferno.

"Mordor." said Pippin nervously.

"Yes," said Gandalf, "There it lies. This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow."

Thunder suddenly rumbled far off. Draco looked up and saw a rolling mass of clouds moving slowly towards the city. "A storm is coming." he said.

"This is not the weather of the world." said Gandalf. "This is a device of Sauron's making. A broil of fume he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight, so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the Shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."

They were silent for a moment. Finally, Pippin cleared his throat and said, "Well...Minas Tirith... very impressive. So where are we off to next?"

"Oh, it's too late for that, Peregrin Took." said Gandalf. "There's no leaving this city. Help must come to us."


	21. III: The Muster of Rohan

_((Things are moving along splendidly now. Enjoy the new chapter!))

* * *

_

After a few moments of silence, Gandalf sighed. "Draco, you have ridden long and hard, but I have need of you once more. Do you see those ruins, there across the plains? That is Osgiliath, once the great city of Gondor, now, merely a battlefield. Denethor's other son, Faramir, holds it in defense against Mordor. Gondor holds the western side while Mordor holds the East. They do not yet know of Sauron's plan to attack Minas Tirith. It is there that Sauron will strike first. I need you to ride there with all speed and warn him. Guards will ask for a password. It is Tar-Minastir."

Draco nodded and made for the stables.

He found that Wulfga had been well cared for and had a trough full of good hay and some apples.

"Sorry, my friend," he said to the horse. "We need to go again."

Wulfga snorted haughtily at him. He put the horses saddle and bridle on him and mounted up. Taking one last look at the Citadel, the Tower and the Tree, he rode away.

* * *

Miles away, Frodo and Sam, led by the creature, Gollum, found their way into the place the Men of Gondor called the Morgul Vale.

Before them lay a high-walled fortress which seemed to glow with a sickly light. Once Minas Ithil, now, it was Minas Morgul.

"The dead city." hissed Gollum. "Very nasty place. Full of...enemies."

Frodo and Sam stood there, staring at this awful sight with unwilling eyes.

"Quick! Quick!" insisted Gollum. "They will see! Come away, Hobbitses! Look, we have found it! The way into Mordor! The Secret Stair..."

The Hobbits now looked where he was pointing. Going almost straight up and up and up was a series of tiny ledges that could hardly be called stairs.

Sam, whose only experience with stairs before the quest was a step ladder (which he fell off of), said, "If those are stairs then I'm an Elf. Well, there's nothing for it, Mr. Frodo."

But Frodo wasn't listening. He had turned back towards Minas Morgul. There was a voice...He couldn't make out what it said, but it called to him. Unwillingly, his feet began to move forward.

"No, Mr. Frodo!" called Sam.

"Not that way! What's it doing?" cried Gollum.

"They're calling me..."said Frodo.

Sam and Gollum sprang forward and grabbed his arms, dragging him back.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently, knocking all three off their feet. Sam recovered first and dragged Frodo off the road, followed by Gollum.

At that moment, the light within the walls of the city seemed to gather together and shot up into the sky like a pillar of fire.

The three companions leapt behind a rock

Far away, in Minas Tirith, the people looked up in fear, wondering what devilry Sauron was preparing for them.

Draco checked his steed and gazed at the frightening display. He knew that he was running out of time, so he spurred Wulfga into full gallop towards Osgiliath.

Frodo and Sam dared to peek out when the shaking stopped.

With a great rush of wings, a shape, blacker than night, rose from the walls of the city. It was like a bird, but featherless. It's head was like that of a snake and it's leathery black wings ended in claws.

Atop it sat a figure all in black robes, save for a cold steel helm which sat atop it's head.

This was the Witch King of Angmar, the Lord of the Nazgul.

He looked around and gave a long, piercing cry. It was the same as they had heard in the Shire and on the banks of the Anduin, but it was greater in terror and ferocity.

Sam and Gollum stuffed their fingers in their ears, but Frodo clutched his shoulder. "I can feel his blade." he moaned.

With a tremendous groan, the gates of the City were opened and out of it, a seething mass of Orcs and Trolls poured forth.

With another cry, the Witch King swooped down off the walls on the city and out of the Vale.

"Come away, Hobbits." said Gollum. "We climb. We must climb!"

And so, Frodo, Sam and Gollum continued their journey into Mordor.

* * *

But miles away, Draco Malfoy rode towards the ruined city of Osgiliath, unaware of what was to come.

* * *

Draco was admitted into Osgiliath after some debate. He looked around at the men. They seemed slightly tense, but hardly like men in the middle of a battle.

They talked in low tones or else sat silently eating.

"Captain Faramir." called the man who led Draco.

A man, who looked very similar to Boromir, stood and approached them.

"Captain, sir, this is Draco, Son of Lucius, a messenger from Minas Tirith," the soldier said.

Faramir studied him. "You are no boy of the city."

Draco nodded. "I came with Gandalf, who you call Mithrandir."

Faramir glanced back at the soldier. "He had the password?" The soldier nodded. "Very well." said Faramir. "What is your message?"

"Gandalf asked me to tell you that Sauron is going to launch a massive attack against Minas Tirith very soon. He will strike here first."

Faramir looked alarmed at this news. "Damrod!" he called. Another man approached. "What do our sentries report?"

"It has been very quiet across the river. Either the Orcs are lying low or their garrison has moved out. We've sent scouts to Cair Andross. If they attack from the North, we'll have some warning."

* * *

Even as they spoke, dark shapes launched silently from the mist on the opposite shore.

Hundreds of boats glided across the water. Each was filled to capacity with Orcs.

In the lead boat stood an Orc who, even by their standards, was hideous. Much of his body was consumed by huge tumors, and he had obviously seen much battle as well. This was Gothmog, one of the foulest of the Orcs alive.

One overeager Orc began paddling too loudly, making a great deal of noise.

"Quiet!" hissed Gothmog.

But it came too late. A sharp-eared sentry had heard the splashing and went to investigate. He peered out from the tower in which he stood and saw the boats.

"Kill him!" growled Gothmog.

An archer raised his bow and struck the man down.

Faramir, Draco and Damrod whirled at the sound of the strangled cry and the following crash. They ran to where the dead man lay.

"They're not coming from the North..." realized Faramir. "To the river! Quickly!" he ordered.

The Men scrambled up and hastily gathered their weapons.

* * *

Gothmog growled, realizing their cover was blown. "Faster!" he ordered. "Draw weapons!"

* * *

Draco stood beside Faramir, hidden behind a pillar with his sword and wand drawn.

"You should return to Minas Tirith." whispered Faramir.

"Yeah, I should." said Draco. He smiled and tightened his grip on his sword. Faramir nodded appreciatively.

Loud thuds revealed that the Orcs had made landfall. Moments later, the creatures began to run past their hiding place. After several had passed, Faramir leapt out and sounded the attack.

* * *

At Edoras, Aragorn sat, as he had for days, atop one of the watch towers facing the mountains.

"Anything yet?"

Aragorn turned to find Harry climbing up. He shook his head. "No, but do not worry, Harry. If Denethor does not concede to allow the beacons to be lit, Gandalf will light them himself."

Harry sighed. He missed Draco terribly. He sat down next to Aragorn, staring at the far-off peaks, hoping that at any moment, the beacon would alight.

"I know how you feel now." he said. "Being separated from one you love, wondering if you'll ever see them again."

Aragorn smiled. "You will see Draco again, Harry."

Harry glanced at him. "Foresight kicking in?"

Aragorn shook his head. "No. But I have faith that..." suddenly, he trailed off. He stood, staring at the mountains. Harry followed his gaze and grinned. Atop one of the lower peaks, they could see a tongue of bright flame.

Aragorn flew down the ladder, followed by Harry. They raced up to Meduseld, throwing the doors wide and entering.

"The beacons of Minas Tirith!" cried Aragorn. "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

Theoden was silent for several moments. Everyone in the room stared at him, holding their breaths.

He smiled. "And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!"

Harry clapped Aragorn on the soldier and ran to don his battle gear.

Outside, every available man was doing likewise. Everywhere, horses were being saddled and swords were being sharpened.

"Assemble the army at Dunharrow, as many Men as can be found." Theoden ordered to Theodred. "You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor...and war."

He gave the same order to all of his Captains. Now that all was in motion, he stepped out and gazed across Edoras, indescribably proud of his Men.

"'Scuse me."

Theoden turned and looked for the source of the voice, finally looking down. Merry stood there, looking quite nervous.

"Uh...I have a sword. Please accept it." he kneeled. "I offer you my service, Theoden King."

Theoden smiled. "Gladly will I accept it. Rise now, Meriadoc, esquire of Rohan of the household of Meduseld. Take your sword and bear it unto good fortune."

Merry bowed and trotted away, grinning.

* * *

As Aragorn, Boromir and Harry prepared their Horses, Eowyn led her own horse up beside them.

"You ride with us?" asked Aragorn.

Eowyn sighed. "Just to the encampment. It is tradition for the women of the court to farewell the men."

Aragorn arched an eyebrow and lifted up a cleverly placed blanket on the saddle to reveal a sword. Eowyn hastily covered it again.

"The men have found their Captain." she said. "We will follow you to battle, even unto death." She smiled and led her horse away.

"Did you notice she said 'We' there?" whispered Harry.

Boromir sighed, "Indeed, I did. I do not know what she is planning, and, frankly, I do not want to know."

Legolas and Gimli sat nearby on Arod.

"Horsemen! Bah!" growled Gimli. "I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy!"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, and even more would I give for an army of archers from Mirkwood, but our kinsmen may have no reason to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands."

"Now is the hour!" cried Eomer. "Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken! Now, fulfill them all! To lord and land!"

The riders cheered and the army issued forth from Edoras.

* * *

The defenders of Osgiliath were being driven back at an alarming rate. No matter how many they killed, the Orcs' numbers only seemed to grow.

Draco had kept close to Faramir throughout the battle.

Fleeing from a battalion of Orcs, they ran through an arch into a collapsed building.

"Faramir!" cried Damrod. They halted, seeing the trap he had sprung and dove behind a low wall.

As the Orcs came in after them, they were felled by the waiting archers.

"We cannot hold them." said Damrod. "The city is lost."

Faramir sighed wearily. "Tell the men to break company. We ride for Minas Tirith."

Suddenly, a cold screech split the air. "Nazgul!" the men cried.

The beasts swept in atop their flying steeds, picking men up and dropping them to their deaths.

"Fall back!" cried Faramir. "Fall back to Minas Tirith!"

He and Draco leapt atop their horses and galloped away, but Damrod was not so lucky. An Orc cut him off and smashed his ribs with a club.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air. A group of Orcs walked over and stared down at him. He looked up just as a spear was thrust into his heart. With one last gasp of air, he died.

"The age of men is over." growled Gothmog, pulling the spear out. "The time of the Orc has come!"

* * *

As the Men rode madly for the safety of Minas Tirith, the Nazgul pursued, killing many. Draco screamed in terror as a man and horse fell near him, almost hitting him.

Unnoticed, a white blur sped from the gates of the city, riding towards them.

Gandalf lifted his staff and a shaft of light shot out and hit the Nazgul. The creatures screamed in pain and wheeled away, back to Osgiliath.

The Men cheered and followed him back into the city.

As they dismounted, Faramir rode up. "Mithrandir! They broke through out defenses. They've taken the bridge and the West Bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river."

"It is as the Lord Denethor predicted." said Prince Imrahil, who had been called to help organize the defenses of the city. "Long has he foreseen this doom!"

"Foreseen, and done nothing!" snapped Gandalf, turning and by so doing, revealing Pippin sitting in front of him.

Faramir's mouth dropped open as he saw Pippin.

"Faramir?" asked Gandalf. "...This is not the first Halfling to have crossed your path..."

Faramir shook his head. Pippin's eyes lit up. "You've seen Frodo and Sam?" he asked excitedly.

Faramir nodded.

"Where? When?" demanded Draco.

"In Ithilien, not five days ago." said Faramir. "Mithrandir, they've taken the road to the Morgul Vale."

Gandalf's happy expression faded into one of fear. "And then the Pass of Cirith Ungol?"

Faramir nodded grimly.

"What does that mean?" asked Draco.

"Faramir, tell me everything! Tell me all you know!" said Gandalf.

* * *

Faramir led them to the Citadel and he recounted to them, and to Denethor, the tale, from finding the Hobbits after the battle with the Mumakil to when he showed them the way out of Osgiliath.

"I warned them that a dark terror dwell in the pass above Minas Morgul, but they were determined to go." he said. "I hope that I have not done ill?" he said, looking at Denethor.

The old man was glaring at him. He looked at Gandalf, Pippin and Draco. "Leave us!" he snapped.

They left and returned to the house which had been given to them to stay in.

"Cirith Ungol." muttered Gandalf. "Just now, my heart almost failed me, hearing that name. And yet, in truth, I believe that the news Faramir has brought has some hope in it. For it seems clear that the Enemy has opened his war at last and made the first move while Frodo was still free. So now, for many days, He will have his eye turned this way and that from His own land. And yet, I feel, from afar, His haste and fear. He has begun sooner than He would. Something has happened to stir Him. Perhaps even your foolishness had helped, my lads. Let me see: five days ago, he would have discovered that we had thrown down Saruman and then, he spoke to both of you in the Stone. So he believes that we have brought the Halfling bearing the Ring here, for that is what he would have done in our place."

"But..." said. Draco

"But what?" said Gandalf. "Only one but will I allow tonight."

"Why are they following Gollum?" he asked. "They know all about him from you and Bilbo. They have to know that his goal is to get the Ring back."

"I do not know." said Gandalf. "Treachery. Treachery, I fear, of that miserable creature. But so it must be. Let us remember that a traitor may betray himself and do good that he does not intend. It can be so sometimes."

* * *

After Gandalf had left the citadel, Denethor lit into Faramir.

"This is how you would serve your city?" he demanded. "You would risk it's utter ruin?"

"I did what I judged to be right." said Faramir.

"What you judged to be right?" asked Denethor increduously. "You sent the Ring of Power into Mordor in the hands of a witless Halfling! It should have been brought back to the Citadel to be kept safe...Hidden, dark and deep in the vaults...Not to be used...Except, at the uttermost end of need." He licked his lips, like a starving man imagining a feast.

"I would not use the Ring!" said Faramir. "Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her!"

"Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious, as a King of Old." sneered Denethor. "Boromir would have remembered his father's need! He would have brought me a kingly gift!"

Faramir shook his head. "Boromir would not have brought you the Ring. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing, and taking it, he would have fallen!"

"You know nothing of this matter!" said Denethor.

"He would have kept it for his own!" insisted Faramir. "And when he returned, you would not have know your son."

"BOROMIR WAS LOYAL TO ME!" screamed Denethor. "HE WAS NOT SOME WIZARD'S PUPIL!" He suddenly tripped and fell backwards.

Faramir moved forward to help him. "Father?"

Denethor looked up sharply, but his expression softened into one of loving. "My son..." he sobbed.

But he was not looking at Faramir. Instead, he was gazing over his shoulder where Boromir was walking towards him, smiling.

But as he drew close, Boromir faded and vanished.

Denethor's face fell and he glared at Faramir. "Leave me!" he growled.

Faramir turned and left quickly, not wanting anyone to see the tears in his eyes.


	22. III: Faramir's Sacrafice

((I'm sorry this took a while. I don't have any excuses this time. I've just been a lazy fangirl. XD I don't own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings.))

* * *

The Witch King sat perched atop a building in Osgiliath, like a great vulture. Even from that distance, he knew that the people of Minas Tirith could feel the terror of his presence.

Gothmog approached, awaiting his orders.

"_Send forth all legions."_ the Witch King hissed. _"Do not stop until the city is taken. Slay them all!"_

"What of the wizards?" asked Gothmog.

If the Witch King could have smiled cruelly, he would have. _"I will break them."

* * *

_

Pippin kneeled by Denethor's seat. The old man looked down at the Hobbit with amusement as he nervously recited the soldier's pledge.

"Here do I, Peregrin, Son of Paladin, pledge fealty and service to Gondor. In peace or war, in living or dying from...from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me...or death take me."

Denethor smiled. "And I shall not forget it. Nor fail to reward that which is given." He placed his hand, bearing the ring of his household in front of the Hobbit's face. Pippin kissed the ring, hoping that was the right thing to do. "Fealty with love," continued Denethor. "Valor with honor. Disloyalty...with vengeance." at these last words, he looked pointedly at Faramir.

Faramir, swallowed and fought the tears which threatened to spill out.

Denethor sneered and sat down at a table off to the side, set lavishly with food. Pippin's stomach growled hungrily, but he knew he wasn't allowed to eat while on duty.

"I do not think that we should so lightly abandon the outer defenses. Defenses," he added, "that your brother long held intact."

"What would you have me do?" asked Faramir.

"I will not yield the River and Pellenor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken."

Faramir sighed. "My lord, Osgiliath is overrun."

"Much must be risked in war." Denethor replied cooly. When Faramir was silent for a few moments, Denethor asked, "Is there a Captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will?"

"You wish now that our places had been exchanged," asked Faramir sadly. "That I had died and Boromir had lived?"

"Yes," said Denethor quietly after a moment. "I wish that."

Pippin gasped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to cry out, to punch Denethor, to do something to make the "old git," as Draco called him, realize that this was not just another one of his soldiers. This was his son! But his new position as a Guard of the Citadel held him back.

"Since you are robbed of Boromir," said Faramir, his voice cracking slightly, "I will do what I can in his stead." He bowed and turned to leave, but turned back. "If I should return, think better of me, father."

"That will depend on the manner of your return." growled Denethor.

Faramir turned and did not look back.

* * *

Theoden and the Fellowship rode through the camp at Dunharrow, surveying the newly arrived soldiers.

"Grimbold, how many?" called Theoden.

"I bring five-hundred men from the Westfold!" Grimbold replied.

"We have three-hundred more from Fenmarch, father." said Theodred, joining them.

"Where are the Riders from Snowbourn?" asked Theoden.

"None have come, my Lord." said Gamling.

They continued their ride up to the carved out stronghold up the side of the Dwimmorburg Mountain. After getting their horses taken care of, they rested.

Theoden looked out over the whole camp, joined by Aragorn.

"Six-thousand spears." the King said bitterly. "Less than half of what I had hoped for."

"Six-thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." said Aragorn.

Theoden smiled reassuringly. "More will come."

Aragorn sighed. "Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have 'til dawn, then we must ride."

Theoden nodded grimly.

A short ways away, two men were fighting to control a spooked horse.

Harry, Legolas and Gimli and the twins walked past Eomer and Boromir.

"The horses are restless and the men are quiet." said Legolas.

"All men grow nervous in the shadow of the Mountain." said Boromir. He nodded towards the sheer face of the mountain, which was split in two by a tall, narrow gap.

"Uh...Where does that lead?" asked Harry.

Emoer and Boromir exchanged dark looks.

"It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain." said Elrohir quietly.

"None who venture there ever return." said Eomer. "That mountain is evil."

"Ah." said Harry. "Remind me again, why are we camping under an evil mountain?"

Aragorn walked slowly past them, gazing at the gap. Faintly in the evening gloom, he could almost believe that he saw the shape of a man, beckoning to him.

"Aragorn."

He whirled and jumped about a foot in the air, but it was only Gimli.

"Let's find some food." said the Dwarf.

Aragorn nodded and looked back at the gap, but if the man had been there before, he was now gone. He shuddered.

He refused to believe in ghost stories...Even if this one was true.

* * *

Eowyn smiled warmly as she finished adjusting the armor on Rohan's smallest soldier. "There. A true esquire of Rohan."

Merry grinned. "I'm ready!" he drew his little sword, nearly hitting Eowyn. She jumped a bit then laughed. "Sorry." said Merry. "It isn't all that dangerous. Not even sharp."

"Well that won't do." said Eowyn. "You won't kill many Orcs with a blunt blade. Come on."

As they left the tent, Merry started swinging the sword around like he was already slaying Orcs.

"To the smithy! Go!" said Eowyn, laughing.

Eomer sat nearby with Gamling. As soon as Merry was away, he said, "You should not encourage him."

Eowyn glared at her brother. "And you should not doubt him."

"I do not doubt his courage." said the Marshall. "Only the reach of his arm." He and Gamling laughed.

"Why should Merry be left behind?" asked Eowyn. "He has as much cause to go to war as you! Why can he now fight for those he loves?"

Eomer suddenly realized that they weren't talking about Merry any more. "You know as little of war as that Hobbit. When the fear takes him, when the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee, and he would be right to do so. War is the province of men, Eowyn."

* * *

Faramir led a grim army of riders down through the streets of Minas Tirith. The people had gathered to see them off.

Women and children and old men cried and touched hands with their husbands and fathers and brothers and sons as they passed, for the last time.

Faramir stared ever ahead, his face blank.

No wife had he. He was still young. He had always thought he would have time later.

And his father...

"Faramir!" his heart leapt, but sank again when he saw it was only Gandalf and Draco. "Faramir! Your father's will has turned to madness! Do not throw away your life so rashly!"

"Where does my allegiance lie if not here?" Faramir asked. "This is the city of the Men of Numenor. I would gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, her wisdom."

"Your father loves you, Faramir." said Draco. "He will remember it before the end."

Faramir said nothing.

* * *

"Can you sing, Master Hobbit?"

Pippin stirred from his thoughts and looked up. Denethor was looking at him. Wine had dribbled down the lord's chin, and he had done nothing about it.

"Well...yes." said Pippin nervously. He did not relish the idea of singing for Denethor. Especially not one of the comedic songs he knew best. "But we have no songs for great halls or...evil times. We seldom sing of anything more terrible than wind and rain."

"And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?" asked Denethor. "We who have lived so long under the shadow would be glad to hear music of a land untouched by it. Come, sing me a song."

Pippin swallowed and wracked his brain, trying to think of something, anything to sing. Suddenly, he remembered and old song of Bilbo's.

_Home is behind, the world ahead...

* * *

_

The army drew closer to Osgiliath. Orcs looked up from every window and from behind every wall.

* * *

_And there are many paths to tread...

* * *

_

Faramir drew his sword and sounded the charge.

* * *

_Through shadow, to the edge of night..._

_Until the stars are all alight...

* * *

_

The Orcs fitted arrows to their bows and took aim.

* * *

_Mist and shadow, cloud and shade...

* * *

_

Faramir closed his eyes, ready to meet death.

* * *

_All shall fade, all shall...

* * *

_

"Fire!" bellowed Gothmog.

The air itself seemed to cry out as thousands of arrows pierced it.

* * *

_Fade..._

Pippin's voice trailed off and tears filled his eyes.

Utter silence fell, save for the mournful tolling of the hour bells, as night overtook Minas Tirith.

* * *

The camp at Dunharrow was also silent. Most men either captured a few fleeting hours of sleep, or else ate.

Through the gloom, could be heard the clopping of a single horse's hooves.

The white horse dutifully would its way up the narrow path up to the Dwimmorburg. Atop it sat a rider, cloaked in black.

* * *

Aragorn slept fitfully in his tent.

His sleep was pierced with dreams.

In them, he saw flashes of a stone doorway, surrounded by strange symbols.

He saw Arwen, laying on a bed, looking deathly pale.

_I choose a mortal life..._

She smiled faintly.

_I wish I could have seen him, one last time..._

He saw himself standing in a great white hall. Suddenly, the chain about his neck broke and the Evenstar pendant fell and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Sir?"

He sat bolt upright in bed with his knife drawn. He looked up. A soldier, looking very nervous now, was in the doorway of his tent.

"King Theoden awaits you, my lord."

Aragorn nodded and rubbed his eyes wearily. He splashed his face with cold water and left for the King's tent.

When he arrived, he found Theoden standing with his arms crossed.

A figure, whose face was hidden by a dark cloak, sat in a corner.

"I take my leave." said Theoden heavily. Aragorn saw as he walked past that his face held a haunted expression.

The figure stood and pulled back his hood.

"My Lord Elrond." said Aragorn, bowing.

"I come on behalf of one whom I love." said Elrond sadly. Aragorn gave him a quizzical look. "Arwen is dying." Elrond explained. Aragorn gasped. Not only had she stayed, but now, her life hung in the balance. "She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing." he continued. Aragorn looked down at the pendant. Where once it had shone brightly, it now appeared tarnished. "As Sauron's power grows, her strength wains. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come."

Aragorn looked up defiantly. "It will not be our end, but His! We ride to meet His armies before the walls of Minas Tirith. He has gone unchallenged long enough!"

Elrond looked on him with pity. "You ride to war, but not to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith, as you know, but in secret, he sends another force which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the south. They will be in the city in two days. You're outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."

Aragorn shook his head. "But there are none!"

Elrond was silent for a moment. "There are those who dwell in the mountain." he said quietly.

A chill wind blew through suddenly as Aragorn thought of the stories of the Dwimmorburg.

"Murderers." he hissed. "Traitors! You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing! They answer to no one!"

"They will answer to the King of Gondor!" declared Elrond, pulling aside his cloak and removing a long sword in an elegant sheath.

Aragorn gasped.

"Anduril, Flame of the West!" said Elrond. "Forged from the Shards of Narsil!"

With shaking hands, Aragorn reached out. He knew what this meant. This was what he had avoided all his life.

But he understood now. Not only his life depended on this.

Thousands...including Arwen would die if he crawled back into the shadows.

"Sauron will not have forgotten the Sword of Elendil." he whispered, taking it in his hands. He took the hilt and with one swift movement, drew the sword. It gleamed with an inner light. "The Blade that was Broken shall return to Minas Tirith." he said resolutely.

"Than man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth!" said Elrond. "Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be! Take the Dimholt road."

Aragorn sighed and sheathed the sword.

"_Ónen i-estel edain."_ (I give hope to men.) said Elrond, quoting the inscription on Gilraen's memorial.

"_Ú-chebin estel anim."_ (I have kept no hope for myself.) finished Aragorn.

He returned to his tent and gathered all of his things. Quietly, he slipped out and went to Brego.

Suddenly, Eowyn stomped around the corner. "Why are you doing this? The war lies to the east! You cannot leave on the eve of battle!" she said. Aragorn glanced at her, raising an eyebrow at her tone of desperation. "You cannot abandon the men." she finished lamely.

Aragorn sighed. "Eowyn..."

"We need you here." she pleaded.

"Why have you come?" asked Aragorn. He had no time for this now.

"Do you not know?" Eowyn asked quietly.

Aragorn sighed. "It is but a shadow and a thought that you love, Eowyn. I cannot give you what you seek." Tears brimmed in Eowyn's eyes and she turned and ran, caring not where her feet took her.

Aragorn shook his head and led Brego away.

"Just where do you think you're off to?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Not this time, Gimli. This time, you must stay."

"Oh really?" Harry walked up leading Hrothgar. "Well I'm sorry to say, Aragorn, you may be the King of Gondor, but you're certainly not the Queen of England, so I don't _have_ to do what you say."

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves and Wizards?" Legolas, smiling, led Hasufel up along with Elladan and Elrohir who led their own horses.

"You might as well accept it, little brother." said Elladan. "We're going with you."

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest but then closed it and smiled.

Boromir walked up and smiled at his friends. "Well, here is where we must split at long last." he said sadly. "I cannot put off my return to Minas Tirith any longer. I ride with Theoden and the Rohirrim."

Aragorn returned the smile. "Good luck, my friend. We shall meet again, even if all the hosts of Mordor stand between us."


	23. III: The Siege of Gondor Begins

_((Hey, anyone remember this story? Haha. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. My energies have been being poured into school and other stuff. As much fun as it is to spend time with Draco and Harry while they snogg in Middle Earth, real life has to come first. But here's the new chapter at last!)) _

_((I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings...But can I just have Draco? Please? _**Makes puppy eyes at J.K. Rowling.**_))

* * *

_

The companions now rode through the camp, not speaking a word.

All of the soldiers gathered and looked at them in confusion.

"Lord Aragorn!" one called to no avail.

"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" asked another.

"He leaves, because there is no hope."said Gamling bitterly.

"He leaves," said Theoden's voice from behind them, "because he must."

Gamling turned. "Too few have come, my lord. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

Theoden shook his head. "No, we cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless!"

* * *

All through the night, and into the next morning, the Fellowship rode along the path which split the Dwimmorburg. The place was utterly dismal. Grey rocks jutted high up on either side of the path like stone daggers. Here and there, there were scruffy plants, but nothing else living.

The horses were extremely skiddish and seemed ready to break and run at any moment.

"What kind of an army would linger in such a place." asked Gimli in a hoarse whisper which, nonetheless, echoed.

"One that is cursed." answered Elladan. "Long ago, the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the Isildur, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain, for they had worshiped Sauron in the dark days. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge."

Elrohir closed his eyes and began reciting an old line of lore.

"_Who shall call them from the grey twilight, the Forgotten People?  
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.  
He shall come from the North. Need shall drive him.  
He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."_

Harry suddenly felt a chill race up his spine. He got the feeling that this wasn't going to be like having a conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. These ghosts sounded like bad news.

"Aragorn," he asked, "If they refuse to help us, they can't hurt us. I mean, they're just ghosts, right?"

Aragorn didn't answer.

* * *

Back at the camp, as the sun peeked over the hills, the Riders of Rohan were already up and preparing to leave.

But one lone woman stood, still as a statue, gazing over the land.

Theoden strode up behind his niece. He knew Aragorn leaving would be hard on her, so he had come to offer her a last bit of comfort.

"I have left instruction." he said. "The People are to follow your rule in my stead."

She didn't say anything in response, but continued to stare into space. Theoden turned to her.

"Take up my seat in the Golden Hall. Long may you defend Edoras if the battle goes ill."

"What other duty would you have me do, my lord?" she asked dully.

"Duty? No." he said kindly. He took her hands in his. "I would have you smile again, not grieve for those whose time has come." she smiled faintly, grateful for her uncle's kind words. He smiled as well. "You shall live to see these days renewed. No more despair."

After Theoden had left, Eowyn's smile vanished and she went to seek out the one person in the whole camp who might be able to help her.

* * *

One hour later, the tense, quiet mood seemed to break. Men shouted to each other or clapped each other on the back. The time had come to leave for Minas Tirith.

Merry checked his armor and his sword one final time before going out and seeing to Stybba, the pony he had been given to ride.

He heard someone approaching behind him and he turned to find Theoden, Theodred and Boromir.

"Little Hobbits do not belong in war, Master Meriadoc." said Theoden.

Merry's heart caught in his throat. "All of my friends have gone to battle!" he cried. "I would be ashamed to be left behind!"

"It is a three day gallop to Minas Tirith and none of my Riders can bear you as a burden."

Merry felt tears welling up in his eyes and he angrily fought them back. "I want to fight!" he pleaded.

"I will say no more." said Theoden, riding away.

Boromir made to follow but then stopped. "Merry," he said. "Watch for Dernhelm." with these cryptic words, he galloped away.

Merry stood puzzled for a moment before he was suddenly hoisted up by the back of his tunic and placed on a horse in front of a Rider.

"Ride with me!" the young man whispered.

"Thank you!" gasped Merry. "But I do not know your name."

"Do you not?" he asked with a strange tone. "Then call me Dernhelm."

* * *

Finally, the Fellowship arrived at the end of the path. Before them was a wall of roughly hewn rock, at the center of which was a dark door set about with skulls and strange carvings.

None of them could deny it as a place of great fear.

They dismounted and led the spooked horses along.

"I feel as if my blood has run cold." whispered Harry.

Legolas looked up at the carvings, translating them. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut."

At these words, a chill wind swept from within with a sound like rough breathing. The horses, finally too scared to go on, pulled their reins away and ran.

"Brego!" called Aragorn, but they did not return. He growled and turned back to the door, drawing Anduril. "I do not fear death!" he said. He strode into the door, instantly vanishing. Legolas and the Twins followed right after.

Taking a deep, steadying breath Harry drew his wand, cast _Lumos_ and went after them.

"Well this is a thing unheard of!" said Gimli. "Elves, Men and even children will go underground where a Dwarf dare not! Grrrr. Oh, I'd never hear the end of it."

He sighed and trotted after Harry.

* * *

The day after Faramir left, a dark tide seemed to break out of Osgiliath. Hour by hour, the wave grew huger. By noon, Minas Tirith was surrounded by an army of Orcs, Trolls, Wargs and Evil Men, the likes of which had not been seen since the days of the Last Alliance.

And ever, an energy-sapping presence was there.

The Ringwraiths flew high out of eyesight, but their evil could be felt at all times.

Draco sighed as he stared out at this force.

He wasn't trying to be a pessimist, but in his opinion, they were royally fucked.

Suddenly, a strangely lopsided form rode out from the front of the formation.

Draco strained his eyes to see what it was.

Then, it became terribly clear.

"Open the gate!" he cried. "It's Faramir! Open the gate for Merlin's sake!"

The bewildered soldiers did as he asked.

In hobbled a tired-looking horse with an arrow in one of its legs. Dragging behind it was Faramir, pierced with arrows.

Tears formed in his eyes as he looked down at the fallen Captain.

Something seemed to harden within his heart suddenly.

"Bring the body up to the Citadel." he growled.

A few soldiers seemed ready to protest the boy giving them orders, but immediately shut up when he glared at them. Four came out quickly with a stretcher and laid Faramir's body upon it.

"Follow me." said Draco shortly.

As they reached the Citadel, Draco pointed his wand at his own throat. "Sonorous." he muttered. Then he raised his head. "DENETHOR!" his magnified voice boomed out. "DENETHOR, YOUR SON HAS RETURNED!"

A moment later, the Steward stalked out of the Citadel, wearing an expression of contempt.

Draco stepped aside so Denethor could see the body.

"Faramir!" cried the Steward running forward. "Say not that he has fallen!"

The man stumbled backwards. "My sons are spent..." he muttered. "My line...has ended..."

Pippin ran to Faramir's side. "He's not dead..." he gasped, but noone heeded him.

"MY LINE HAS ENDED!" the Steward cried again.

Draco finally had enough. He raised his wand and pointed it at Denethor's back. "CRUCIO!"

The man screamed and fell to the ground.

"THEY WERE OUTNUMBERED!" he bellowed. "THEY WERE ALL KILLED! WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN? CRUCIO!"

Again, Denethor screamed and writhed on the ground. Either the soldiers feared Draco's power or they simply felt their Lord was receiving his just deserves. But either way, none came forward to help him.

"YOU DON'T DESERVE SONS LIKE FARAMIR AND BOROMIR. YOU'RE JUST A BLOODY COWARD! AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE LIKE A COWARD! AVADA-"

Suddenly, somebody laid a hand on his shoulder. He whirled to defend himself, but it was only Gandalf.

"Draco, let him go."

Draco seethed. "HE KILLED FARAMIR AND HUNDREDS OF OTHER GOOD MEN! HE DESERVES TO DIE!"

"I know he does." said Gandalf. "But many that live deserve death, Draco. And even more that die deserve life. Can you give both? Then do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement. Let him go."

Draco looked once more at the pathetic form of Denethor, huddled on the ground whimpering. Finally, he lowered his wand.

A moment later, Denethor struggled to his feet and hobbled over to lean on the wall.

In so doing, he saw the spectacle spread out before the walls of the city.

"Rohan..." he gasped. "has deserted us...Theoden has...betrayed me..."

As if to respond, the Orcs began firing catapults. Men raised their shields instinctively over their heads, but what fell was not deadly.

At first, they appeared to be misshapen rocks, but a closer look revealed them for what they really were.

They were the heads of all those who had fallen at Osgiliath. Most were cruelly hewn, but occasionally, a man would cry out, seeing the face of one he had known, his features contorted in a frozen cry of pain.

While the Men were distracted with this, the next volley began. Great boulders were hurled over the walls, crashing within the first and second levels. Some, by art or devilry, burst into flame as they fell.

It was at this moment, that Denethor truly went mad.

"ABANDON YOUR POSTS!" he screamed wildly. "FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!"

He turned back to order Draco's death, but was instead hit hard on the nose. Gandalf snarled and hit the man once in the stomach, doubling him over, and once more on the skull, knocking him out cold.

Everyone stared silently at him.

"Prepare for battle!" he cried.


	24. III: Fire and Darkness

_((Woah. WOAH! An update! IT CANNOT BE! Thought I was dead, didn'tcha? Well, I'm not, as you can see. But I have to admit, I had lost all interest in this story for a while. I know. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's the truth. But I was struck by all the wonderful reviews I got. So, here it is, after over a year, the next chapter. And, yes, I promise to you that I WILL finish this story.))_

_((I'm sure you're all wondering if I have managed to obtain the rights to LotR and HP in the time since this was last updated. And the shocking answer is no. So, please don't anybody sue me. I'm just an innocent fanficcer.))_

* * *

  
The Fellowship was grim and silent as they made their way through the twisting and winding passages. Every once in a while, Aragorn would shine his torch down passageways, but ever they moved forward. At one passage, Legolas and the twins stopped.

"What is it?" asked Gimli fearfully. "What do ye see?"

"I see shapes of men..." said Legolas. "...and of horses."

"Where?" whispered Harry. "I don't see anything."

"...pale banners like shreds of clouds" Elladan said. "...spears...like winter thickets through a shroud of mist..."

"The dead are following." said Elrohir. "They have been summoned."

"The dead? Summoned?" Gimli practically squeaked, turning as if to face them. "...I knew that...Very good...very good...LEGOLAS!"

* * *

And so it was that Gandalf the White and Draco Malfoy took command of the last defense of Minas Tirith. Gandalf, mounted atop Shadowfax, rode up to the walls and his presence gave the defenders strength.

"Send these foul creatures into the abyss!" ordered Gandalf. At these words, huge trebuchets set all over the walls opened fire. Massive chunks of masonry crushed twenty or more Orcs at a time, but these were merely leaves in a forest. Ever the Orc catapults returned fire, killing brave men who never abandoned their posts. Even so, the men wondered if this was all the entire battle was going to be.

Their questions were answered as a terrible cry echoed down from above and the Nazgul dove from the clouds. The claws of their terrible steeds threw men and even whole trebuchets crashing to their doom hundreds of feet below.

Also at that time, massive Trolls began moving forward huge ironclad siege towers. The monstrosities were pushed right up against the walls and out of them poured wave after wave of Orcs.

Draco was hard-put to keep his section of the wall safe. He had tried destroying the towers with the Reducto spell, but they were just too big.

"As soon as that door drops, open fire!" he ordered his troops. But there were just too many and at their forefront were Sauron's own breed of Uruk Hai. They swept aside the frontal defense and charged down the wall.

As Draco sent one group screaming off the wall, he turned and noticed a dazed and confused Hobbit nearby.

"Pippin! What the hell are you doing down here?" he shouted. "Get back up to the citadel!"

"They called us out to fight..." the Hobbit said, sounding confused.

At that moment, another siege tower opened nearby and Orcs began pouring out. One grinned and charged at Pippin. The Hobbit closed his eyes, waiting for the killing blow.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The Orc fell as a green wave of light struck him. Draco leapt down in front of Pippin.

"This isn't exactly the place for a Hobbit!" he said as he swung his sword into one Orc and cast the killing curse on another.

Suddenly, Pippin saw one coming up behind Draco. With a small cry, he drew his sword and drove it into the creature's gut.

Draco turned and blinked but then smiled. "Guard of the Citadel...Now, get back up the hill. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Gandalf or Harry about me using that spell. Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to."

Pippin nodded and did as he was told. But he couldn't quite seem to drive out of his head the idea that something seemed very wrong about Draco.

* * *

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU USELESS SCUM?!" bellowed Gothmog. A large battering ram lay among its dead crew next to the gates of Minas Tirith. The Orcs were now cowering back out of bowshot from the walls.

"The door won't give!" said one fearfully. "It's too strong!"

"Get back there and smash it down!" growled Gothmog.

"But nothing can breach it!" the Orc protested.

Gothmog looked at the gate and drew up proudly. "Grond will breach it...Bring up the Wolf's Head!"

* * *

At long last, the Fellowship emerged into an open cavern. To one side was a deep crevasse. To the other was a tall building carved into the stone.

"Where are we?" asked Harry.

"_Who enters my domain?"_

They turned to see a pale figure as it appeared slowly from thin air. He looked like the corpse of some long-dead king, making Harry guess that this was the King of the Dead they had been seeking.

"One who would have your allegiance." said Aragorn.

"_...The dead do not suffer the living to pass."_ the King said.

"You will suffer me!" Aragorn replied.

The King laughed and as he did, the air seemed to grow even colder than it already was. From all sides, the ghostly shapes of men marched out of the walls until the Fellowship was hopelessly surrounded on all sides.

"_The way is shut..." _the King hissed. _"It was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it...The way is shut...Now, you must die."_

They all raised their weapons.

"_Impedimenta_!" shouted Harry. The spell seemed to pass right through the ghosts. Similarly, Legolas' arrow went through the King's head and the ghosts behind him and fell clattering to the floor.

"I command you to fulfill your oath!" said Aragorn even as the undead legions advanced.

"_None but the King of Gondor may command me!"_ sneered the King, drawing his pale sword.

Aragorn brought Anduril up in a salute. With a cry, the King brought his blade down. _Clang!_ Harry blinked. Anduril was holding the ghostly blade at bay.

"_That blade was broken!"_ the King said incredulously.

"It has been remade!" Aragorn uttered proudly, shoving the King back into his soldiers. The Army of the Dead stared unblinkingly at Aragorn. "Isildur cursed you never to rest until you had aided the King of Gondor against Sauron as you swore to. Fight for us, and I will hold your oath fulfilled. What say you?" The Dead still made not a sound, but merely stared at him.

"You're wasting your time, Aragorn." said Harry. "They were cowards when they were alive and they're not any different dead."

"I am Isildur's heir! Fight and regain your honor! What say you?"

* * *

"GROND! GROND! GROND! GROND!"

Throughout the battle, Gandalf had tried to block out the howls and cries of the Orcs because they rarely made sense. But it seemed now that they all chanted a single word. And that word made his blood run cold. For during the First Age, Grond had been the name given by the Dark Lord, Morgoth to his great mace which had probably killed more Elves than all the Balrogs put together.

Gandalf made his way over to the edge of the wall and gazed down. There, amidst the Orcs, moved a gigantic ram. Its head was shaped like a great wolf and flames licked at its jaws. It was pulled by many great beasts and Mountain Trolls manned it. The Defenders of Minas Tirith fired many arrows, trying to kill its crew, but its armor was too great.

He let out a sharp, trilling whistle and, like a bolt of white lightning, Shadowfax charged up onto the wall. "To the Gates, Shadowfax!" Gandalf cried, swinging up on to the horse's back.

* * *

Pippin stood at the wall of the Seventh Level. Down below, in the first and second levels, fires raged unchecked. The screams of men and women mingled horribly with the guttural battle cries of Orcs. All Pippin could think was that any of those screaming might be Gandalf or Draco. Draco...Something about the way Draco was acting concerned the Hobbit. He had heard Harry talking to Gandalf about 'Unforgivable' curses, and he couldn't help but wonder if what Draco had been using to kill the Orcs was one of them. And then there was the way he had tortured Denethor.

"I am Steward of the House of Anarion. Thus have I walked, and thus now will I sleep." The Steward's words echoed across the courtyard, drawing Pippin's attention. He was walking out of the citadel, followed by an entourage of Citadel Guards who carried something between them. Pippin squinted to see what it was, and gasped when it became clear. They carried Faramir on a litter. Pippin thought for a moment that the Captain was dead, but then saw that his chest rose and fell unevenly. Coming out behind the guards were men of the court, all carrying torches. "Gondor is lost." the Steward continued, speaking to himself. "There is no hope for Men."

Pippin had a sinking feeling that he knew what was happening, so he followed at a distance. The entourage walked around the Citadel to a small path which led over a narrow bridge. As they reached the bridge, Denethor stopped suddenly. Pippin ducked down, hoping he hadn't been spotted or heard. Denethor gazed back down at the city. Down below them, Soldiers herded a large group of women and old men further up into the city. "Why do the fools fly?" Denethor asked. "Better to die sooner than late...For die we all must." With that, he continued across the bridge. Pippin again plucked up his courage and followed.

Denethor strode up to the largest of the buildings and threw open its great doors. Pippin hid outside and poked his head in to see. Through the doors came the distinct scent of things long dead.

"No tomb for Denethor and Faramir." the Steward said. "No long slow sleep of death embalmed. We shall burn like the heathen Kings of old."

He stepped up to a large stone slab in the center of the room. Yes, this would do. He looked back at his men. "Bring wood an oil!"

* * *

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Another Orc fell dead at Draco's feet. This was getting easier, he mused. He drove his sword into an Uruk Hai's neck as it foolishly charged him. After all, what was the difference between performing the Killing Curse and killing with a sword?

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"GROND! GROND! GROND!"

Draco could hear Gandalf's voice over the Orc's cries from far below, giving the men defending the gates a pep-talk as the giant ram swung again and again. Draco had tried at least damaging it with the Reducto curse from above, but Sauron must have put some enchantment on it, because the spell had dissipated before it hit.

With a sudden crash, the gates fell in and simultaneously, a renewed wave of Orcs climbed up the towers and poured onto the walls.

"We can't fight them all!" Draco shouted to his men. "Retreat down into the city!"

"We cannot flee!" responded a man angrily.

"You're not fleeing. You're advancing in the opposite direction." Draco snapped. "Now do as I say if you want to live."

The man glared at him but did as he said.

* * *

Faramir was lain upon the wood as soon as it was stacked. He flinched and murmured in his sleep, but far from taking this as a sign of hope, Denethor said, "The house of his spirit crumbles. He is burning. Already burning!"

Pippin could stand it no longer. "He's not dead!" he cried, running forward. Denethor glared up at him angrily. Pippin grabbed at the wood and tried to pull it down. "He's not dead!" he screamed.

Denethor stalked towards the Hobbit, grabbed him by his collar and dragged him towards the door. "Farwell, Peregrin, Son of Paladin." he said, ignoring Pippin's continued cries of protest. With a casual toss, he threw Pippin out of the building. "I release you form my service. Go and die in whatever manner seems best to you." With that, he slammed the door. From within, Pippin heard him bellow, "Pour oil on the wood!"

* * *

Draco galloped atop Wulfga, alongside his soldiers, turning to blast Orcs when necessary. "Get up to the second level!" he cried. "Everyone retreat to the second level!" Men and Orcs alike fell as burning shots from the catapults continued crashing into buildings and into the streets. Bodies, living and dead were trampled by those retreating. "Helm's Deep was nothing compared to this." Draco muttered to no one.

"DRACO! DRACO!" Cried a small voice. Draco's head whipped around to see Pippin running against the tide of retreating men towards him. "Denethor's lost his mind!" the Hobbit cried. "He's burning Faramir alive!"

Draco growled a curse and hauled Pippin up behind him. "I have had enough of that man!"

They galloped as fast as Wulfga could go, up and up away from the battle. But suddenly, as they emerged from underneath an archway, a great black shape landed in front of them. It was the same as that which had appeared on the banks of the Anduin and had emerged from Minas Morgul. Atop it sat a being clothed in darkness. Atop his invisible head sat a crown of cruel sharp metal.

Draco aimed his wand at the monster. "Go back to your master! Go tell him that this city will not fall!" he cried.

"_Do you not know death when you see it, boy?" _intoned the Witch King of Angmar.The voice made Pippin cry out and cover his ears. Draco's face paled, but his grip on his wand did not falter. The Witch King drew his sword which burst into flames. "_"This is MY hour!"_

Draco held his wand in a defensive position as a wave of power shot out of the sword. True to Galadriel's word, when she had presented Draco with it, the wand did not break, however, Draco and Pippin were thrown from the horse's back.

Draco sat up painfully and aimed his wand. "Ex...Expecto Patronum..." he said weakly. A thin silver vapor shot from the wand, but nothing more. The Witch King laughed. _"Foolish child. Your heart belongs to the darkness. You think the power of light can save you?"_

All of a sudden, a horn sounded in the distance. But this wan not a harsh, sharp sound like the Orc's horns. Nor was it a loud, clear sound like the horn of the Elves heard at Helm's Deep. This had a deep, rich sound that made Draco's heart leap and renewed his strength.

The Witch King took one last look at Draco and then turned and took off.

"Draco ,are you alright?" Pippin asked.

Draco nodded and stood. "Come on. We have to save Faramir."

* * *

Gothmog was watching his brethren pouring into Minas Tirith with savage glee on his face when the horn sounded. He stopped and looked around. The sound was coming from behind the hill to the north. He turned and squinted, for the sun had somehow pierced the shroud of darkness. A mass of dark shapes seemed to be growing out of the hillside. But as the sun hit them, their terrible shaped were revealed. Horsemen. Thousands and thousands of horsemen. The Rohirrim had arrived at last. 


	25. III: Bitter Victory

_((Here it is, fanboys and fangirls. It's a bit miraculous that I found time to get this written, even with exams coming up. But what can I say? I love you all that much. :D_

_This was a very sad chapter to write. Lots and lots of death. Anyways, please read and review. I still don't own LotR or HP._

_P.S. 77 days 'til O.o.t.P. and 85 days 'til D.H.! SQUEE!))_

* * *

Theoden gazed out at the horde of evil creatures spread out before Minas Tirith and his heart fell. The entire force which had assaulted Helm's Deep would barely count as a tenth of this army. 

Merry likewise gasped as he saw the army. _What was I thinking, coming along? _he said to himself. But he felt Dernhelm's hand squeeze his shoulder. "Courage, young Hobbit." the man whispered. "Have courage for your friends." He glanced over and saw Boromir looking at him and smiling encouragingly. He nodded to the man and loosened his sword in its sheath. Even if he did die, he resolved, he would make the Orcs fear the name of the Shire.

All eyes now turned to Theoden whose head was bowed. Many fully expected him to turn and ride back to Edoras in shame, but then his head raised and on his face was a look of determination. "Eomer," he cried, "take your Eored down the left flank! Boromir, follow the King's banner down the center! Theodred, take your company right after you pass the walls. Forth, and fear not darkness! Arise! Arise, Riders of Rohan! Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! A sword day, a red day, ere the sun rises!"

"Whatever happens," whispered Dernhelm to Merry, "stay with me. I'll look after you." Merry nodded.

"Ride now!" cried Theoden. "Ride now! Ride for ruin! And the world's ending! Death!"

"**DEATH**!" repeated the Riders after him.

"Death!" Theoden cried again.

"**DEATH**!"

"DEATH!" the King cried a third time.

"**DEATH**!" roared the Riders.

Merry, despite his need to stay hidden drew his sword and joined the battle cry.

As the horns sounded again, Theoden shouted, "Forth Eorlingas!"

All at once, the horses broke into a charge. But ever Theoden rode before them, looking to the terrified Orcs like one of the great and terrible Kings of Old. Arrows flew from the horde, and a few found their marks, but nothing could stop the tidal wave of Horsemen that bore down upon them.

"Fire at will!" Gothmog screamed frantically, but many of the Orcs simply broke and ran. With a sound like a thunderstorm, the line of Horsemen slammed into the Orcs. The evil creatures fell by the hundreds, some trampled by hooves and others pierced and hewn with spears and swords. Theoden laughed and swung his sword like a man half his age, decapitating an enraged Gothmog with one strike. Merry, too, caught in the heat of battle grinned savagely as he slashed at any Orcs who attacked Dermhelm's unprotected side. A short ways away, he saw Boromir, not smiling, but nonetheless slaying Orcs with great skill.

* * *

Denethor now stood at the top of the pyre, Faramir at his feet. He raised his arms slowly and closed his eyes. "Set a fire in our flesh." he commanded. The Citadel Guards looked at each other nervously, but none could disobey the mad Steward, for to do so would break their sacred oaths. As the torches neared the wood, the doors suddenly slammed open and a voice cried out "_EXPELIARMUS_!" A stream of magic flew from Draco's wand and knocked the torch from the hand of one of the nearest guard. The others drew up in surprise and Denethor turned towards the intruders with a look of pure rage on his face. 

"Get down off of there you idiot!" Draco yelled.

Denethor sneered and grabbed a torch from one of the stunned guards. " You may triumph in the field of battle for a day, boy," he hissed, "but against the power that has risen in the east, there is no victory." With these grim words, he tossed the torch down on the oil-soaked wood which instantly ignited.

Pippin gasped and Draco charged the horse forward, aiming his wand and crying "_Impedimenta!_"

Denethor flew off the pyre with a cry of surprise and crashed into his attendants. Pippin, seeing the fire moving in on Faramir, leapt from the horse and landed next to him. He braced his hands underneath the fallen Captain and with a great heave, rolled him off the pyre just as it was completely consumed by flames.

"NOOOO!" screamed a wild voice. Denethor almost seemed to fly at Pippin and grabbed him by the throat. "YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SON FROM ME!" he bellowed.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Denethor didn't even have time to cry out before the jet of green light struck him and he fell back onto the burning pyre, dead. The flames quickly consumed his body and Pippin had to fight not to retch at the smell of burning flesh.

Draco sighed and slumped in his saddle, the weight of the last several hours, finally catching up with him.

Pippin looked up at the sound of hooves and saw Gandalf atop Shadowfax, standing in the door of the Mausoleum. He looked grimly at the pyre and said, "So passes Denethor, Son of Ecthelion...Lord and Steward of Gondor."

* * *

The Army of Rohan, despite being so vastly outnumbered, had completely driven the Orcs from around the walls. Sauron's proud army were now fleeing back towards Osgiliath. 

"Fight them to the river!" shouted Eomer to his company.

"Make safe the city!" Theodred ordered his troops.

Suddenly, from far off, came a loud trumpeting sound. This was no horn, nor any other sound made by Man or Orc. Through the fog around Osgiliath came the source of the sound. The beasts were taller than a siege tower. They had leathery grey skin, huge floppy ears, and long snake-like trunks. Sweeping down from either side of their mouths came two long, curved ivory tusks. Atop their backs sat tall structures, holding dozens of men with spears and bows. Driving them were tall men, all bald and wearing little besides loin cloths and elaborate body paint. These terrible monsters were the Mumakil of Harad.

The Men of Rohan gasped and quaked in fear at the sight of the monsters, but Theoden charged forward and shouted, "Reform the line! Take them head-on! CHARGE!" Emboldened by the courage of their King, the men followed. As soon as the horse-men came within range, the Mumakil swung their mighty tusks, sometimes taking dozens at a time. The Rohirrim responded by firing their bows at the creatures, but the arrows were barely pin-pricks to them.

Eomer saw this and tried a different strategy. He checked his horse and stood stock-still while two Mumakil bore down on him. At the very last possible moment, he tossed his spear up, not at the monster, but at its driver. The man toppled down, still attached to the reins, prompting the beast to veer to the side and into the other one, killing them both.

Dernhelm, too, had a strategy. "Take the reins!" he said to Merry. The Hobbit blinked in surprise, but did as he was told. "Take us left!" Dermhelm cried. Merry did so, before he saw that this led them straight through the legs of one of the beasts. He closed his eyes and prayed that the strange man he rode with knew what he was doing. Dernhelm grabbed the sword out of the hands of a nearby Orc and used both it and his own to cut the hamstrings of the Mumakil as they galloped beneath it. The monster let out a pained trumpet and fell in a heap, knocking both Merry and Dermhelm from their horse.

Dermhelm, climbing to his feet, looked frantically around for Merry, but then saw something else that made his heart leap into his throat. Theoden was nearby, slashing wildly at the Orcs surrounding him. He uttered a battle cry and charged into the mass, slaying the Orcs with reckless abandon. Theoden blinked, feeling for a second that something about the way the young warrior fought seemed familiar, before being drawn back into battle.

Merry awoke with something of a headache. He had hit his head when he fell and the body of one of the men who had been on the Mumakil they killed had fallen on top of him. He rolled the body off with a grunt and stood to his feet. _Where has Dernhelm gotten off to?_ he wondered, but a hoarse cry drew his attention and he had to bring his sword up to fend off the Orc who had chosen him as its next victim. He quickly dispatched the enemy, but there was another right behind it.

"Rally to me!" Theoden cried to his men. "To me!"

Suddenly, he found himself being lifted up in the air, along with his horse and he was shaken violently before being tossed roughly back onto the ground. He gasped in pain as his horse spasmed and rolled on top of him. His vision was tinged with red, but he could still see the terrible shape of the fell beast and its Nazgul rider looming above him.

"_Feast on his flesh._" the Witch King hissed. The beast raised its head to oblige its master's order, but two men jumped in front of it with their swords drawn. "I will kill you if you touch him!" Dernhelm cried. Prince Theodred said nothing, but his face held a look which would terrify any mortal creature.

"_Fools! Do not come between the Nazgul and his prey!_" the Witch King growled at the same time as his mount lunged at Theodred. The Prince jumped to the side and, with one mighty stroke, hewed the beast's head from its snake-like neck. The body toppled over like a puppet with its strings cut and the Witch King fell from its back. But the next moment, he was back on his feet. He turned to the two men, and brandished both a long pale sword and a massive spiked flail.

Dernhelm's face paled, but he picked up a fallen soldier's shield and tightened his grip on his own sword. Theodred crossed around to flank the Witch King, bringing his sword up into a defensive position.

With a terrible cry, the Witch King swung the flail and the battle began. Dernhelm dodged the blow which would have shattered his skull and then brought his sword up to parry another strike. The Witch King spun and swung the flail again and Dernhelm brought his shield up, but it shattered under the power of the strike and the Soldier fell, holding his arm awkwardly. Theodred roared in rage and charged recklessly, but his attacks were easily parried by the Nazgul. With an almost casual air, he knocked Theodred's sword from his hand and swung his flail, catching the young Prince in the chest and sending him flying back several feet. When he landed, he did not get up again.

* * *

Lozgrub, Second in Command of the Orc Army, licked his lips as the scent of battle came to his nostrils. He could see those vile Men of Harad and their giant beasts slaying the Horsemen with reckless abandon. No doubt they would get all the Great Eye's thanks and the Orcs would be relegated to cleaning up the battlefield. 

Mildly put, he was in a bad mood. He and a small group were standing at the docks of Osgiliath, waiting for the perpetually late Corsairs of Umbar to arrive to reenforce them.

"Why we gotta wait here?" grumbled one of his underlings. "My belly aches for man flesh."

"Because the Master ordered us to!" snapped Lozgrub, despite the fact that those had been almost his exact thoughts a moment before.

"Look, here comes the scum now!" said another.

Sure enough, large cruel-looking ships with black sails were rounding a bend in the river and moving towards them. As they drew closer, Lozgrub shouted, "Late as usual, Pirate Scum! There's knife-work here that needs doing! Come on, ye sea-rats! Get off yer ships!"

Someone did, indeed jump off the closest ship, but it wasn't who Lozgrub was expecting. First came two men, one tall and bearded, wielding a great sword, and the other, shorter and younger and wielding a sword and a short wooden stick. Next came three Elves, two of them identical to one another with long raven hair, wielding long, curved swords, and the other, golden haired and wielding a bow. Finally, there stumbled down off the ship a Dwarf with wild red hair and a long beard and wielding a broad gold and silver axe.

"There's plenty for all of us." said the Dwarf fiercely, "May the best Dwarf win!"

Lozgrub and his soldiers roared with laughter. "Who be these fools?" the Orc crowed.

The man stood tall and pointed his sword at them. "I am the King of this City. I hereby demand that you cease your attack and return to your own lands or we will destroy you."

The Orcs laughter only intensified. "Destroy us?" Lozgrub cackled. "You and what army?"

The man smiled. "_This_ army."

Out of the ships suddenly came thousands and thousands of pale ghostly figures. The laughter of the Orcs turned to screams of terror as the Army of the Dead descended upon them.

* * *

Merry stumbled across the battlefield, half blind. That last Orc had managed to club him in the head before he killed it and no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to make his vision clear. 

"_You fool!_" hissed a terrible voice which emanated from a dark blur directly in front of him. "_No man can kill me!_" He shook his head and the fog around his eyes lifted just enough for him to be able to see the Witch King holding Dernhelm up by his neck. "_Die now, little warrior._" the Nazgul mocked.

Merry had no idea what came over him next. With a cry of "The Shire!" he drove his sword into the Nazgul's leg. He cried out as his arm suddenly became numb, and his sword smoked and shriveled up like burnt paper, but the damage had been done. The Witch King fell to his knees with a cry of agony and dropped Dernhelm. Merry watch in amazement as the soldier who had borne him into the battle pulled off his helmet to reveal that he wasn't a 'he' at all. "I am no man." Eowyn said fiercely. She drew back her sword and plunged it straight into the Witch King's face. There was a sound like a thunderclap and the Nazgul let out one last wail before its helmet crumpled in on itself and its robes fell into a heap as if the body inside had been suddenly taken away.

* * *

"_Averte Statum_" Harry said, firing a spell at a fleeing Orc. All around him, the creatures of evil were running back towards Mordor. Harry was quite sure that, had they possessed tails, they would be tucked between their legs. The Army of the Dead had taken out the Mumakil within a matter of minutes and without their big guns, the Orcs and Men had apparently lost their courage. He could also see a ghostly green glow from within the walls of Minas Tirith and he knew that the city would soon be cleared of Mordor's filth as well. 

Without a doubt, they had won.

* * *

Eowyn crawled over to Theoden as best she could with her broken arm. The King was staring up into the sky, and she thought him dead, but then he looked at her. At first, he looked confused, and then outraged, but finally his features softened. 

"Eowyn." he croaked. "You disobeyed me."

"I am sorry, Uncle." she said, angrily fighting back tears, but he waved his weakly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You proved me wrong. Eowyn, I am very proud of you."

Tears now flowed freely from her eyes. She clasped his hand and laid her other hand on his head. "My eyes darken." he said after a moment more.

Her grip on his hand tightened, almost as if she thought she could keep him there by simply holding on to him. "No, I have to save you!"

He smiled. "You already did. I go now to my fathers, in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed." He let out one last ragged breath and gasped, "Eowyn..." before his eyes grew wide and he stared off into the sky, gone forever from Middle Earth.

Eowyn sobbed and laid her head on his chest where, soon after, she fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

Draco, Gandalf and Pippin picked their way across the field of dead Orcs, heading towards a place where they could see six figures standing before a mass of assembled ghosts. Pippin cringed slightly when he saw the Army of the Dead, but Draco placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

_"Release us."_ they heard the King of the Dead demand.

Aragorn looked at him hesitantly.

"Bad idea!" chimed in Gimli. "Very handy in tight spot, these lads...Despite their being dead."

The King gave the Dwarf a cold glare before turning back to Aragorn. _"You gave us your word!"_ he snapped.

Aragorn sighed. "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go. Be at peace."

The King smiled and spread his arms as he and his army evaporated into clouds of smoke and then vanished altogether. The Companions then turned and, catching sight of the others, smiled. Gandalf noted the presence of Anduril in Aragorn's hand and bowed his head respectfully.

Harry and Draco's reactions were not so subdued. They both broke away from their groups at a run and met in a passionate embrace and kiss.

Elladan and Elrohir grinned at one another and Gandalf rolled his eyes and shook his head.

After giving them a moment, he cleared his throat. "When you are quite ready, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, there is much we could be doing by way of aiding injured soldiers.

The two broke their embrace and laughed self-consciously. "Sorry, Gandalf." said Harry sheepishly.

"I see nothing has changed in my absence." said Boromir, approaching with a group of Rohirrim. He and Aragorn laughed and hugged. "We meet again, though all the hosts of Mordor stand between us." said the Gondorian, quoting Aragorn's words to him back at the camp. Aragorn laughed and the others too greeted their old comrade. Soon, though, they were prodded again by Gandalf and they had to set about the less happy task of searching for survivors. Gondorian Soldiers and relatively uninjured Rohirrim were conscripted to serve as orderlies.

As they moved further away from the city, they came upon the bodies of more and more Men and horses. One sad discovery came as they found the body of Gamling, Theoden's trusted lieutenant. Around him were a great many dead Orcs, and they were glad to know that he had died doing what he loved. Suddenly, "Harry..." called a weak voice. Harry looked around and gasped when he saw who had spoken.

Theodred lay not far away, his armor bent and torn and his chest bleeding from several puncture wounds. He dashed over away from Draco to the fallen Prince and knelt by his side. Theodred smiled. "I am...glad...I got to see you...again..." he said with some effort. Harry didn't respond, but instead pulled the ruined armor off his chest. He was hardly a medical expert, but he could tell, thankfully, that the armor had saved the Prince from the worst of whatever had hit him. He looked around and saw two Gondorian Soldiers with a stretcher. "Over here!" he called. The men quickly ran over and just as quickly lifted Theodred up and set him on the stretcher. Harry walked away with them, clasping Theodred's hand and leaving Draco behind with a hurt expression on his face.

The worst part of the day came when an anguished cry echoed across the battlefield and they ran over to find Eomer holding Eowyn's limp body. Everyone looked shocked to see this, except Boromir who looked oddly ashamed.

Gandalf ran over and knelt down next to them. He placed a hand on her brow and closed his eyes. Quickly, his eyes shot open again. "Eomer, she lives! Quickly, Aragorn, Boromir, take her to the House of Healing!" They nodded and, without a word, gently picked the Shieldmaiden up and took her away with Eomer quickly following. "Peregrin Took!" called Gandalf and the Hobbit ran to his side, eager to be of assistance. "Find as much Kingsfoil as you can and bring it up into the city!" Gandalf ordered. Pippin nodded and ran off in search of the plant.

"Gandalf." said Draco in a grim voice. He and the Twins stood not far away next to the body of a great white stallion. Gandalf went over to them and his heart fell as he saw the body of Theoden, King of Rohan. He closed his eyes and said in a low voice, "Westu hál. Ferðu, Theoden, Ferðu." (Be-thou well. Go-thou, Theoden, go-thou.)

Pippin, meanwhile, had already found quite a bit of Kingsfoil, and was about to go back to the City when something caught his eye. He bent down and picked out of the grass a silver and green broach, shaped like a Mallorn leaf. "Merry..." he gasped and began scouring for any sign of his friend. Suddenly, he saw a pair of hairy feet sticking out from underneath the body of an Orc. He ran forward with a small cry and rolled the body off. Merry looked worse than Pippin had ever seen him. Both his eyes had been blackened and his nose looked broken. On top of that, he looked oddly pale. "Merry! Merry, wake up! It's me, Pippin!"

Merry's eyes opened slowly and he smiled when he saw Pippin's face. "I knew you'd find me." he said weakly. Pippin smiled back at him, despite the tears streaming down his face. Merry suddenly looked frightened. "Are...Are you going to leave me?"

Pippin shook his head. "No. I'm going to look after you."

He looked over his shoulder and called for help. The Twins seemed almost to appear out of nowhere and they gently scooped Merry up and took him to the city.

* * *

At long last, the sun began to set, heralding the end of one of the longest days anyone in Gondor could ever remember. Though the battle was won, hope was nowhere to be found. Not in the House of Healing where Aragorn and Gandalf toiled to save the lives of Eowyn, Faramir, Merry and countless others and where Harry sat by the bedside of Theodred as healers tried to patch up his wounds. Not in the Citadel where Pippin was having to tell Boromir of his father's madness and subsequent death. Not by the White Tree where Draco sat, feeling betrayed by the one he loved. 

Not even in the Pass of Cirith Ungol where Samwise Gamgee, having defeated the great Spider, Shelob, cried over the seemingly dead body of Frodo Baggins.


	26. III: The Last Debate

_((Eh...Three months isn't so long between updates. :P This is a longer chapter than usual. Hope that's alright. A lot had to happen in here.  
_

_OH MY GOD! I LOOOOVED DEATHLY HALLOWS! But it was so sad at the same time! I won't spoil anything for those not finished reading it yet. And the OotP movie was amazing!  
_

_As always, I don't own HP or LotR and Reviews make me very, very happy.))_

* * *

  
Sam crept up towards the tower of Cirith Ungol, holding his own sword in one hand and Frodo's in another. He knew that the place was likely crawling with Orcs of the worst kind, but he wasn't about to lose Frodo again. And if he had to, he would fight off Sauron and all the Black Riders at once to make sure of it. He hoped too that he ran across that miserable creature Gollum. For everything the sneak had done, Sam wanted to make him pay. Although if the giant spider had gotten him, that would be alright too. He frowned as he got closer to the gate. There was an extremely unusual sound issuing forth from the courtyard; Silence. He could hear none of the usual laughing and howling that more often than not marked the presence of Orcs. He ducked behind a grotesque statue and poked his head around to look inside the gate. What he saw surprised him quite as much as seeing his old Gaffer in a boat might have. The courtyard was strewn with the bodies of dead Orcs. For a wild moment, he wondered if Frodo had somehow escaped and done this, but common sense told him that was impossible. He stepped inside to take a closer look at the bodies. Some, he now saw, wore the emblem of a pale half-moon and others wore the familiar Red Eye emblem. Knowing what he knew of Orcs, it didn't take a scholar to figure out what had happened. The two sides had gotten to arguing and arguing had led to killing.

But he wasn't about to take it for granted that all the Orcs were dead. So, still moving as quietly as he could, he made his way up to the top of the tower. Sure enough, halfway up, he heard footsteps and low muttering. At the same time, Sting started to glow. A horrible force brought Sam's hand to his chest. He fought it with all his might, for he knew what it wanted him to do. At that moment, four large Orcs came around the corner. They stopped when they saw him, but then they drew back in fear. For they saw not a small and frightened Hobbit, trying to hold a steady sword. They saw a great silent shape, cloaked in gray shadow. In one hand, it held a glowing Elven blade, the light of which was a bitter pain. The other was clutched at its breast, but held concealed some nameless menace of power and doom. One ran, back up the stairs, shrieking, "Get him you slugs!"

The remaining Orcs looked at each other nervously, but followed their orders. Sam slashed the first that came near him. "That's for Mr. Frodo!" Then the next, "That's for the Shire!" And the final, "AND THAT'S FOR MY OLD GAFFER!"

He looked up and saw the fleeing Orc heading into the tower. "Oh no you don't!" Sam snarled and gave chase.

* * *

Frodo awoke slowly. For one terrifying moment, he had no idea who he was or where he was, but then slowly it came back to him; leaving Sam, Gollum's betrayal, the giant Spider, and then, the sudden pain in his chest. Suddenly it registered that his hands were tied in front of him. And there was something else that seemed different. He felt lighter somehow as if a great burden had been lifted...Panicking, he reached his hands up and felt his neck. The Ring was gone. He let out a moan of despair. 

"Stop your squealing you dunghill rat!" shouted a rough voice. He flipped himself over quickly to see a large, nasty Orc stalking towards him with a blade. He held the blade over Frodo's neck. "I'm gonna bleed you like a stuck pig!" he hissed.

With a sickening sound, a blue glowing blade slammed very suddenly through the Orc's chest.

"Not if I stick you first." said Sam fiercely.

"Sam!" Frodo cried. He couldn't have been happier if Gandalf himself had saved him.

"Let's get you out of here, Mr. Frodo." Sam said, cutting the ropes.

"It's too late." Frodo said despairingly. "It's over, Sam. They've taken it!" Sam looked at him curiously. "They've taken the Ring!"

Sam's face went red. "Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo, but they haven't." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the Ring, still on its chain. "I thought I'd lost you." he said. "So I took it for safekeeping."

Frodo wanted to thank him and tell him that he'd done the right thing, but a voice came from him automatically, saying, "Give it to me." Sam stared at him and withdrew his hand slightly. "Give me the Ring, Sam!" he said sharply. For a moment, Sam's fist began closing around the Ring, but then he shook his head and held it out. Frodo snatched it and put it around his neck, sighing with relief. "You must understand, Sam." he said, sounding like himself again. "The Ring is my burden. It will destroy you."

Sam nodded. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. We'd best find you some clothes. You can't go walking around Mordor in naught but your skin."

* * *

Aragorn walked slowly through the House of Healing, looking from bed to bed. He had seen to Merry, whose injuries had been the least dire. Then he had helped Faramir, and the Son of the Steward was now resting comfortably. Now there was just one he had to heal. After a few moments, he spotted Eomer kneeling by a bed, on which lay Eowyn, like some sleeping Fairy Tale princess. He sat by her and placed a hand on her brow. She had likely saved them all. They could have killed all of Sauron's Orcs and Trolls and all the evil men and their Mumakil, but it would have meant nothing if Eowyn had not killed the Witch King. And she had paid the price for striking that blow. The strength of will it had taken to kill the evil creature had sapped her of all strength and placed her in a dark, unnatural sleep. 

Aragorn called for hot water, which the healers quickly brought. Without a word, he crumbled Aethalas leaves into the water. A sweet smell rose up with the steam and those nearby felt refreshed and strengthened. Aragorn then called to Eowyn softly. He waited a moment and then called again. She did not awaken, but her breathing, which had been shallow, grew deep again and come color seemed to return to her face. Aragorn nodded to Eomer and left quietly.

Nearby, Harry sat next to Theodred, holding his hand and using a cloth to mop the sweat off his brow. Aragorn had been to see him and had done what he could, but had said that it was up to Theodred himself to finish healing. Suddenly, Harry's scar throbbed painfully. He winced and ran a hand over it. A part of him wondered if, even over the span of an entirely different dimension, he was feeling a strong emotion from Voldemort. He tried sensing what that might be, but his scar just throbbed for another moment and then went back to normal.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Legolas who was passing by.

"I'm fine." he muttered.

"You know, don't you think you should take some rest?" the Elf asked.

"I'm not tired." Harry replied shortly.

"And what about Draco? I'm sure he would probably like to see you." He gave Harry a pointed and somewhat displeased look.

"Draco will be fine without me." Harry said, his eyes pointed towards Theodred, but focusing on nothing..

Legolas stared at him for a few moments, his expression hard, but then he nodded and walked away.

Harry winced as his scar gave another even more painful throb.

* * *

Boromir sat upon the seat of the Steward, his head bowed in grief. He had loved his father very much. He had not been blind to the man's faults, especially in his treatment of Faramir, but he had still always loved him. 

At the far end of the hall, the doors opened with a creak and another man stepped in. Boromir couldn't help but smile, despite his heavy thoughts. He had not yet been able to go to the House of Healing. He had been kept busy for hours, helping the Rohirrim to bury their dead. So he was pleased beyond words to see Faramir for the first time in many months. He felt a twang of regret. Through the top of his brother's tunic, he could see a large bandage. He also looked rather unnaturally pale. _I should have been here._ Boromir thought bitterly. _I could have stopped all this madness with Father and Faramir from happening._ But even as he thought it, he remembered a time, many months before, though it seemed to have been a lifetime ago, when he had last seen his brother.

* * *

The battle was over. No Orc now remained in the city of Osgiliath. And it was all thanks to the leadership of two brave men. Boromir planted Gondor's banner atop a tower. He drew his sword and raised it up to the sky. 

_"BOROMIR! BOROMIR!" _The soldiers below chanted.

"THIS CITY," he shouted, prompting the men to fall silent, "WAS ONCE THE JEWELL OF OUR KINGDOM! A PLACE OF LIGHT AND BEAUTY AND MUSIC! AND SO IT SHALL BE ONCE MORE! LET THE ARMIES OF MORDOR KNOW THIS; NEVER AGAIN SHALL THE LAND OF MY PEOPLE FALL INTO ENEMY HANDS! THE CITY OF OSGILIATH HAS BEEN RECLAIMED FOR GONDOR!"

_"FOR GONDOR!" _the men shouted and lapsed again into tumultuous cheering.

Boromir climbed down from the tower and went amongst the crowd, searching for one person. Finally, they spotted each other. Boromir and Faramir embraced, laughing joyously.

"Good speech." Faramir said, smirking. "Nice and short."

"Leaves more time for drinking!" Boromir chuckled. "Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!"

The men cheered again as massive kegs of the finest ale were brought out and opened.

Boromir filled two mugs and handed one to Faramir. "Remember today, little brother." he said. "Today, life is good!" They laughed and toasted, but in the next moment, Faramir's smile dropped off.

"What?" Boromir asked.

Faramir sighed. "He's here."

Boromir turned to see his father, Denethor, walking amongst the men, congratulating them.

"Oh, one moment of peace, can he not give us that?" Boromir whispered irritably.

"Where is he? Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first born?"

Boromir plastered a smile on his face and shouted, "Father!"

Denethor gave Boromir a fatherly embrace, which he returned a little stiffly. "They say you vanquished the enemy almost singlehandedly!" the man said proudly.

Boromir shook his head. "They exaggerate. The victory was as much Faramir's as mine."

Faramir, who had been hanging back, walked forward expectantly. Denethor's face turned hard and cold. "But for Faramir this city would still be standing." he crossed behind Boromir to face his younger son. "Were you not entrusted to protect it?"

"I would have done, but our numbers were too few." Faramir said flatly.

Denethor's eyes flashed. "Oh, too few?" he sneered. "You let the Enemy walk in here and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection on me."

"That is not my intent." said Faramir quietly.

Boromir could at last stand it no longer. "You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will." he hissed to his father. He stalked away, but Denethor followed him angrily. "He loves you, father!"

"Do not trouble me with Faramir." Denethor replied coldly. "I know his uses and they are few. We have more urgent matters to speak of." Boromir looked angry at the change of subject, but he did not interrupt. "Elrond of Rivendell has called a council of the free peoples. He does not say why, but I have guessed its purpose. Months ago, Mithrandir came here seeking information on Isildur and the fall of Sauron. All this time, I have asked myself why. And now, it seems clear. I believe the Weapon of the Enemy has been found."

Boromir's mouth fell open. "The One Ring..." he said quietly. "Isildur's Bane..."

"It has fallen into the hands of the Elves!" Denethor hissed. "Everyone will try to claim it: Elves, Dwarves, wizards! We cannot let that happen! This thing must come to Gondor! It's dangerous, I know. Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser Men. But you, you are strong. And our need is great. It is our blood which is being spilled, our people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him! You must go. Bring me back this mighty gift."

Fear crept into Boromir as he saw the hint of madness in his father's face and heard it in his voice. "No." he said. "My place is here with my people! Not in Rivendell!"

"Would you deny your own father?" Denethor demanded angrily.

"If there is need to go to Rivendell, let me go instead." said Faramir, who had clearly been listening.

"You?" sneered Denethor. Faramir regretted speaking up instantly. "Oh, I see. A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor to show his quality. I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me." He turned back to Boromir and stared at him.

At last, Boromir sighed and quietly said, "I will go, father."

Denthor smiled. "You will make your country proud, my son." He hugged Boromir again and left without a second look at Faramir.

Hours later, Boromir had exchanged his armor for traveling clothes. His horse was saddled, provisioned, and ready to go. Most of the men had dispersed by this time, so it was in a quiet atmosphere that the brothers parted ways. "Remember today, little brother." Boromir said sadly. Then he spurred his horse and galloped from the city.

* * *

He recognized now the madness that, even then, had taken his father's mind. His presence would have done little.

Faramir had now spotted Boromir. He smiled weakly as Boromir stood and walked to him. "Hello, little brother." he said quietly.

Faramir gave a weak smile. "This is a cruel fate. Always when one of us has returned after some quest, it has been a cause for celebration."

Boromir sighed. "We have defeated Sauron's armies. His greatest lieutenant is dead. A King has returned to claim the throne. So why does victory taste so bitter?" They fell silent again for several moments. Faramir walked past him to the table which had been set up for Boromir to eat, but the food had not been touched. He took two goblets and filled them with wine. One he handed to Boromir, and the other he held up in a toast. "To better times." he said.

Boromir looked taken aback for a moment, but he smiled and held up his own cup.

In silence, they drank and remembered those better times.

* * *

Legolas stood on the wall above the House of Healing. The city was quiet for now. He knew that Men still toiled on the fields below, but within the city, most now slept. He stared out across the field to Mordor. With his powerful Elven vision, he could just see the outlines of the Nazgul atop their fell steeds against the red glow of Mount Doom. But his mind wasn't on them. Something was wrong, he knew. He sensed a sleepless malice somewhere close by. He was reminded of the time not so long ago when Pippin had used the Palantir and Sauron had invaded his mind, but this was different somehow. It was a subtler and colder presence. He remembered a fleeting impression of it at the Council of Elrond, but he had attributed it to the Ring. Then, occasionally, as they had traveled, he had felt it again. It was almost like a chill breeze on the back of his neck. But still, the Ring had been nearby during those times. But now, the Ring was now miles and miles away. And he felt it more strongly than ever. Although, he supposed, the word 'strongly' was a poor one. The presence was doing a very good job of hiding itself. At Edoras, he had known exactly what was happening and where it was coming from instantly. Here, every time he tried to clamp down upon it, it seemed to slither away.  
Whatever it was, it knew he was aware of it. 

His thoughts strayed to the Witch King and he wondered if the fell creature's spirit lingered around the city. But no. Little though he knew of the way Sauron bound the Nine Kings of Men to their Rings, he knew at least that Eowyn's strike and cloven what remained of its soul. And besides that, Gandalf had recovered the Witch King's Ring from where he fell and had been able to confirm that its power was broken. "_Where are you?_" he muttered in Elvish.

* * *

t was not yet dawn, but already, Dramonir, Stable Master of the Citadel was awake. He strode briskly from his house and walked a short ways to where all of Gondor's finest steeds were kept when they weren't being used. The stable was extra full today, owing to the large number of Rohan horses being kept there. He knew that every stable in the city had been accosted to accommodate the fine beasts. And his stable in particular also housed the horse of Mithrandir, possibly the finest beast he had ever laid eyes on. He stopped by Shadowfax's paddock to admire him. Mithrandir had sternly warned him that no man was to attempt to ride Shadowfax under any circumstances. He had said, and Dramonir quite believed him, that no being, mortal or immortal, could tame the horse. Either he could consent to allow you to ride him, or you would be wise to keep your distance. 

He smiled and put a shiny red apple in Shadowfax's trough. The Horse dipped its head in what almost looked like a gesture of thanks.

He did not hear when a cloaked figure entered the stables behind him. No sound warned him of the figure drawing a wand from within his cloak.

The only warning he had was a low voice muttering "_Avada Kedavra._" Then he heard a sound like something rushing towards him, he saw a brief flash of green light, and then he fell dead, completely unmarked.

Shadowfax whinnied loudly and tossed his head, looking angrily at the figure. The figure regarded him coolly before turning away and going to another horse. The figure quickly saddled this horse and then mounted and galloped away. The figure met no resistance in the city. All were fast asleep, resting from the labors of cleaning up after the battle. And the gates were still smashed in and thus, open for the rider to gallop through. Like a bolt of lightning, the figure rode away from Minas Tirith in the direction of Mordor.

* * *

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight." said Gandalf heavily. "The darkness is deepening." 

It was the next morning and gathered in the citadel with Gandalf were Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, the twins, Boromir and Eomer.

"I think if old Red Eye had the Ring, we would know it." said Elrohir.

Gandalf shook his head. "It's only a matter of time. He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

"Let him stay there! Let him rot!" growled Gimli, sitting on the Steward's seat and smoking a pipe. "Why should we care?"

"Because, Gimli," said Boromir. "At least ten-thousand Orcs are now sitting between Frodo and Mount Doom. And they won't be moving any time very soon."

Gimli's face fell and he stuck his pipe back into his mouth moodily.

"I've sent him to his death." Gandalf whispered sadly.

Aragorn had not joined in the discussion at all thus far. He had simply stood, staring up at the statue of Isildur. "No." he said quietly. Everyone turned their attention to him. He turned and was strangely smiling. "There is still hope for Frodo. He just needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

Elladan raised a curious eyebrow. "What do you suggest, brother?"

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our strength and march to the Black Gate."

Everyone else in the room stared at him as if he had sprouted a tail and Gimli choked on his pipe smoke.

"It is suicide, Lord Aragorn." said Eomer. "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms. We have barely three-thousand men able to fight."

"We cannot achieve victory for _ourselves_." Aragorn corrected him. "But we _can_ keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us." He gave Gandalf a significant look. "Keep him blind to all else that moves."

Boromir smiled, comprehending him. "A diversion."

Aragorn nodded. "If both his armies and his gaze are beyond Mordor, that could give Frodo enough of a chance to get to Mount Doom and destroy the Ring."

"It's sneaky." said Elladan.

"It's underhanded." agreed Elrohir.

They looked at each other and grinned. "We love it!" they said in unison.

"Sauron will suspect a trap." said Gandalf. "He will not take the bait."

Aragorn grinned. "Oh, I think he will."

Suddenly, the doors of the Citadel were flung open and a familiar young wizard ran in, panting for breath. "Gandalf! Aragorn!" he shouted.

They ran to him. "What has happened?" Gandalf asked.

"The stable-master has been murdered!" said the boy.

A collective gasp went up. "Who did this?" Boromir asked.

The wizard hesitated. Gandalf stared into his eyes. "What are you not telling us?" he asked quietly.

Draco took a deep breath. "Harry is gone. So is his horse. The Stable Master was killed by _Avada Kedavra._"

"How is this possible?" Aragorn asked. "Harry would never-"

"It wasn't Harry." said Legolas from across the room. Everyone turned to look at him. "Since the battle ended, I have felt something. A presence. But it was remote and vague. I was waiting for a moment to tell you about it, Gandalf, but now I am too late. I believe something or someone has possessed Harry's mind."

"Is it Sauron?" Eomer asked.

Legolas shook his head. "No. It is different. Colder. More calculating. It is still blocking me attempts to pinpoint it, but I can tell now that it is heading towards Mordor."

"The Ring..." Gandalf said, fear dripping into his voice.

"We must go after him at once!" said Boromir. "Frodo and Sam will stand no chance against Harry's powers!"

"But what about Sauron and his Orcs!" protested Gimli. "We still need to draw them out or Harry will be the least of the wee Hobbits' worries!"

"I will go." said Gandalf. "I can easily catch him on Shadowfax."

"No." Draco said quietly. "They'll need you in the battle, Gandalf. I'll go after Harry."

Gandalf shook his head. "Draco, you have too much invested in this. If he can't be stopped-"

"If I can't stop whatever this is possessing him, I'll do what I have to do." Draco snapped.

"Gandalf, he is right." said Aragorn, laying a hand on the elder Wizard's shoulder. "We will need your power and your leadership in the battle if we are to survive long enough to make the diversion a success."

Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed. "Very well." he said after a moment. "Draco, be careful. We do not know the nature of this being that is possessing him. Harry could be very dangerous. And remember, it is absolutely imperative that Frodo's task be fulfilled. Everything else is secondary. _Everything._"

Draco nodded and left the Citadel.

"Well lad," said Gimli to Aragorn, "whatever you're planning, you'd best do it quickly."

Aragorn sighed and looked up to where Draco had left. "Good luck, _melon nin._" he whispered.


	27. III: The Enemy Revealed

_((Compared to the last chapter, this one is a tad short. But not to fear. We're getting on to the end. And there's a rather big Reveal in this chapter. _

_Well it goes without saying what I do and do not own. So please drop me a review! I love to hear what I can be doing better as well!))_

* * *

At Aragorn's request, the throne-room had been emptied. The windows had been covered and the torches dimmed. He now strode across the hall, Anduril held in one hand, to where a bundle of cloth now sat on a table before the throne, covering something. He took a deep, calming breath and withdrew the cloth to reveal the Palantir of Isengard. Gandalf had nearly refused point blank to relinquish it, fearing what had very nearly happened to Pippin and Draco because of it. But, as Aragorn had reminded him, the Stones were the property of the King of Gondor. And without the use of this one, their plan stood no chance of succeeding.

He took another deep breath and picked the stone up with his free hand. The instant he touched it, fire seemed to ignite within it. And then, the eye appeared.

"_**YOU!"**_ bellowed a terrible voice. Sweat broke out on Aragorn's forehead as he wrestled against Sauron, as the Dark Lord attempted to break into his mind.

"Long have you hunted me!" he said through gritted teeth, "And long have I eluded you! But no more!" He then held Anduril up to his chest. "Behold! The Sword of Elendil!"

Sauron's attack wavered, and Aragorn felt fear and anger in equal amounts. Within his mind appeared the image of a bearded man, no so dissimilar from Aragorn himself, using the broken hilt of the sword he now carried to cut off the fingers of a tall, black-armored being. Aragorn realized with a start that he was seeing Isildur in person, as he had been at the Last Battle. In that split instant that Aragorn's concentration flickered, a tidal wave of fire slammed against his mind. He suddenly saw an image of four Hobbits and two boys walking up ahead of him down a dark street in Bree. He saw a flash of Uruk Hai beating their spears on the ground at Helm's Deep. He saw himself attacking the Ringwraiths on Weathertop. He saw the King of the Dead leering at him from the darkness of the Dwimmorburg. He saw himself and Arwen kissing in Rivendell. With a tremendous effort, he shut out everything having to do with Frodo and the Ring. But then, one final image came to his mind. He saw Arwen laying on a bed, her face as pale as death. _I wish I could have seen him...one last time..._ He cried out in terror and dropped the stone back on the table with a loud thud. There was a very faint snap as the clasp of the Evenstar pendant broke and it slid from his neck and feel to the marble floor where it shattered into a million pieces.

* * *

Gandalf, Boromir, Eomer, Legolas, Gimli and the Twins hovered outside the closed door of the Citadel. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Aragorn had kicked them out. Gandalf had warned him that if he was not out in half-an-hour, the Wizard would blast the doors down and come in after him. They had just reached the twenty-five minute mark when the doors swung open and Aragorn walked out, looking pale, but determined.

"What happened?" Gandalf demanded.

Aragorn was silent for a moment. "He will take the bait."

The tension snapped and relief washed over everyone. "Knew you'd do it, Estel!" Elrohir said, clapping his foster-brother on the shoulder.

"My lords!" said a frantic voice. They saw a young boy running across the courtyard to them.

"Bergil, what is it?" Boromir asked.

The boy turned to Eomer. "M-my Lord, Prince Theodred has died. He was bleeding internally. There was naught the Healers could do."

Eomer closed his eyes and turned away.

"Thank you for delivering the message, young man." Gandalf said quietly.

"Another crime that Sauron must answer for." said Elladan in a bitter voice.

Aragorn put a hand on Eomer's shoulder. "My friend, you are King of Rohan now." Eomer flinched visibly. "You must lead your people." Aragorn continued. "They need you. We need you if we are to make Sauron pay for what he has done."

Eomer was silent for nearly a minute before he turned and nodded. Without a word, he set off for the stables.

* * *

It was not a grand, impressive force which rode from Minas Tirith four hours later. It was a small assortment of cavalry from both Gondor and Rohan, as well as a few thousand footmen. Before them rode Gandalf on Shadowfax, with Pippin seated before him. Next to him was Legolas, with Gimli sitting behind him, then Boromir, bearing Merry, then Eomer, and finally, the Twins. But at the head of the column rode Aragorn. He was no longer at all recognizable as Strider the Ranger. He wore gleaming armor, set with the symbol of the White Tree and a long blood-red and navy-blue cloak. At his hip hung Anduril, its silver and gold hilt gleaming in the sunlight. His face was no longer knotted in concentration, but was instead set with a strong and kingly look of determination.

* * *

Far above, upon the walls of the city, Eowyn watched the tiny force until it vanished into the distance.

"My lady!" said a chiding voice. One of the healers, a woman named Ioreth, came bustling up to her. "I have searched for you! You are not yet healed and I was commanded to take extra care of you! You should be in bed!"

"I need no more rest!" Eowyn snapped. "I am healed, save for my arm. And it is no longer in pain. I will no longer lounge in bed while others toil. Tell me what must be done in the city!"

Ioreth sighed. "I'm sure I do not know, my lady. I have been tasked only with healing the injured and sick."

"Then lead me to one who knows more." Eowyn said shortly. "Who is in charge of the City?"

Ioreth screwed her face in thought. "I suppose with the Lord Boromir gone, that would be Lord Faramir. He is also in the House of Healing. He was gravely injured, but he is nearly well again."

"Then take me to him." she said.

* * *

Faramir walked among the gardens, his thoughts also on the company that rode towards Mordor. He wished desperately to fight side-by-side with Boromir, but his brother had forbidden it.

"My lady, I really must protest! You are not well! My Lady..." Faramir turned and saw a fair-haired and pale complexioned woman striding towards him, with a plump little woman bobbing along behind her. "Ah, Lord Faramir, sir!" the Healer called. "This is Lady Eowyn of Rohan. She is not content and wishes-"

Faramir waved his hand at her. "It is alright, Ioreth. You may go." Ioreth bowed and bustled out. "What can I do for you, my Lady?"

"Do not misunderstand his words, my Lord." Eowyn said quickly. "The comforts of your city and the care of your Healers has been almost too much. But I cannot sit idly by while those I love fight, possibly to their deaths!"

Faramir sighed. "What would you have me do? I too am something of a prisoner of the Healers. If there is something that is within my power to give, I will."

"I would have you command these Healers to let me go!" she said. She tried to sound strong and proud, but to her own ears, she sounded like a petulant child.

Faramir smiled sympathetically. "As I told you, I too am stuck here. It would be most unwise of me to overrule the Healers in a matter of their craft."

"But I do not desire healing!" pleaded Eowyn. "I wish to ride to war like my brother, Eomer. Or better yet like Theoden King and his son, Theodred. Both have died and have been granted honor and peace!"

"It is too late to follow the Captains into battle." Faramir said quietly. "But death in battle may yet come to us all. And we will be better prepared to face it if we do as the Healers wish. I'm afraid that we must, both of us, learn patience." Silence fell between them for a time as they both looked eastward towards Mordor.

"The city has fallen silent." said Eowyn finally. "There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows so cold."

Faramir looked up at the cloudy sky. "This? It's just the damp of the first spring rain." Eowyn looked at him curiously. He smiled at her. "I do not believe this darkness will endure." But she did not smile. Instead, her gaze returned to the East.

* * *

This, Sam decided, was not the best idea he ever had. He and Frodo had taken Orc armor so that they wouldn't stand out as Hobbits to Sauron if he spotted them. However the plan had backfired when a lingering patrol of Orcs spotted them and forced them to join the mass heading towards the Black Gates.

"To the gates you slugs!" shouted the Captain from nearby. "Don't you know we're at war?"

Suddenly, Frodo gasped and fell to the ground. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, grabbing him to support him.

"It's getting so heavy..." Frodo moaned. Sam saw Frodo's neck beneath his armor. The chain was cutting into his skin as if something of tremendous weight were pulling it down.

"You there!" shouted a voice. Sam looked up and saw a large Orc Overseer shoving his way through the crowd towards them.

"Hit me!" Frodo hissed.

"What?" Sam exclaimed.

"Hit me, Sam! Start fighting! We've got to act like Orcs!"

Sam closed his eyes and swung his fist wildly. He felt it connect with something and prayed he hadn't hurt Frodo. "Get off of me!" he shouted in the roughest voice he could manage. "Nobody pushes me, you filthy maggot! Get off of me!"

The other Orcs didn't quite know what they were fighting about, but soon, the entire platoon was in full riot. Sam dragged Frodo through the mosh pit and up over a hill. They didn't rest until the sounds of the fighting had faded away.

* * *

Gollum watched as the Orcs moved off. His sharp eyes caught two smaller ones walking away from the rest of the army. "There's the nasty little Hobbitses, my Precious" he hissed. "The fat one came back, did he? We'll show him, my love. He'll see if we'll take getting hit and kicked. Oh yes he will! Then, we'll go for Master and the Precious will be ours!"

"You won't take them alone." said a low voice. Gollum whirled and bared his teeth. Sitting casually atop a high rock was what seemed to be a man wearing robes, with a hood pulled up over his face. He was twirling a wooden stick between his fingers.

"Who is it, my love?" Gollum hissed.

The man jumped down from the rock. Instead of falling, he floated down as if borne by the wind. "There are two of them. How will you separate them again? If you go after Frodo, Sam will attack you and you know Frodo will just put the ring on and get away. Then how will you get your it back?"

Gollum hissed again. "We always knows where the Precious is! They stole it from us, but we found them! Yes we did!"

"Oh, I have no doubt that one so clever as you could track him down, even with the Ring on." the man said silkily. "But what of the Eye?" His head turned to the great, tall, black tower, atop which sat the Eye of Sauron. "Surely he will feel it when Frodo puts on the Ring. And what then?"

"THE PRECIOUS IS OURS!" Gollum screeched. "IT WAS OUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT! THEY STOLE IT FROM US! _Gollum_! _Gollum_!"

"I know. I know" said the man, his voice dripping with sympathy. "They are cruel and faithless. They would rob you of your birthright. So let us make them pay! Do you see this?" He held up the wooden stick. "With this, I can make them hurt. Watch." A beetle was passing by on the ground. The man picked it up gently and set it in his palm. "_Engorgio._" He muttered. The beetle grew to the size of an apple before Gollum's astonished eyes. "_Crucio!_" The beetle suddenly began twitching and convulsing. Gollum clapped with delight and cackled. "And when we grow bored of their screams, when their pathetic cries for mercy become tiresome..._Avada Kedavra!_" There was a flash of green light and the beetle rolled over, obviously dead. "Then, you can take your...Precious."

"Yes!" said Gollum, his eyes glinting. "Then WE be the Master! No one will kick us ever again! We can pay them all back!"

The figure smiled underneath his hood. "Come. We can move faster than they can. We can reach the Mountain before they do. So when they arrive, we will be ready."

Gollum grinned. "Yes. But who is it, my Precious?" Not an Orc or an Elf. Not a Dwarf or a nasty Hobbit. Is it a man? Who is it?"

The man pulled down his hood. He had dark hair and a tanned complexion that seemed to have been worn by long travel in the open. On his forehead was a vivid scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning. By all reasoning, he looked like a man. There was but one difference. His eyes were red with dark slits in the center. "You may call me...Lord Voldemort." he said, smiling wickedly.


	28. III: The Final Battle

_((We're really almost at the end now. After this, there will probably be only one more chapter and maybe an Epilogue. This is also the most action-packed chapter I've written so far. It contains too probably the most references to the book over the movie._ _Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! _

_I do not and sorrowfully never will own HP or LotR._

_Please Read and Review! It makes me happy! And you wand to make me happy, don't you? ))_

* * *

The Black Gates of Mordor were not designed to be a welcoming sight. They looked like a solid wall of obsidian stone and iron, sixty feet tall and ninety feet wide. They were topped by dagger-like spikes and were flanked by two tall black towers. These towers had originally been build by the Men of Gondor after Sauron's initial defeat in order to keep a watch over Mordor, just as Minas Morgul and Cirith Ungol had been built. But as with the latter two, Sauron had taken the towers and twisted them to his own dark purpose.

Aragorn was annoyed, but not altogether surprised, to find the Gates firmly closed and not one Orc standing before them. Sauron was playing his hand by trying to show that he did not consider the Army of the West to be any significant threat.

Aragorn glanced at Gandalf and the Wizard nodded. Well, it was time to play their own hand. As had been arranged, Aragorn, Eomer, the Twins, and the remaining members of the Fellowship rode ahead of the army, to stand directly before the gates. Eomer brought a horn to his lips and blew one loud, long note. "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" Aragorn called. "Let justice be done upon him!"

There followed a full minute of nearly ear-shattering silence, before the Gates slowly swung forward, just enough to admit a single rider. He was robed all in black and he rode a black horse, but this was no Ringwraith. This was something far more foul. He had once been a man. But an unnaturally long life in the service of Sauron had left him horribly disfigured. His black metal helmet covered the dark sockets where once had been eyes. His mouth looked like nothing more than a diseased gash rimmed with rotten yellow teeth. "I am the Mouth of Sauron." he said in a voice that could not be called human. "My Master bids thee welcome." he added in a mocking voice. His looked around at the group before him (they all wondered at the exact same time how he could see them) and sneered. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed!" Gandalf snapped. "Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

The Mouth grinned. "So thou art the spokesman, Old Greybeard? Have we not heard of thee, always scheming and hatching they plots at a safe distance? But thou hast stuck they nose out too far this time, Gandalf. And thou shalt see what happens to those who lay their foolish webs before the feet of Sauron, Lord of the Earth! I have a token I was bidden to show thee if thou shouldst dare to come." He pulled something from within his robes and held it for all to see. All of the Fellowship gasped, for they immediately recognized Frodo's mithril shirt.

"Frodo!" sobbed Pippin.

"NO!" shouted Merry.

"Silence!" Gandalf snapped.

The Mouth smirked and threw the shirt at Gandalf. "To send one of these Halfling imps into Mordor as a spy was folly beyond even what is to be expected of thee! I can see too that he was dear to thee! Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would have thought that one so small could endure so much pain. And he did, Gandalf. He did."

Aragorn stared at the Mouth expressionlessly. Perhaps sensing his gaze, the Mouth turned to him and sneered. "And who is this? Isildur's Heir? It takes more than a broken Elvish Blade to-"

Anduril rang out as it slid smoothly from its sheath and sent the Mouth of Sauron's head toppling from his shoulders.

"I guess that concludes negotiations." muttered Gimli dryly.

Aragorn glared at the company. "I do not believe it!" he said fiercely. "I _will_ not!"

With loud groan, the Black Gates began swinging forward again, and this time, they did not stop. As soon as the opening was wide enough, a seething mass of Orcs and Trolls began marching forward.

"Fall back!" Aragorn said. Nobody needed to be told twice. They rode like the wind back to the lines of Men, all of whom were gazing fearfully at the massive army marching towards them. "Hold your ground!" cried Aragorn. "Hold your ground! Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship! But it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day, WE FIGHT! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

There was no cheering, and no battle cries, but every single Man stood tall and drew his sword or axe, held his spear ready or notched an arrow to his bow. Aragorn turned to the Orcs and held Anduril aloft, where it caught the rays of the sun and almost looked as if it had become a blade of pure light.

* * *

Frodo and Sam had reached the foot of Mount Doom. At the sight of the tall peak, with fire belching forth from the top, Frodo collapsed. Maybe it was the Ring, knowing what its bearer meant to do, or maybe he just had no energy left. But he fell to the hot ground and lay here, staring into the sky. Sam rushed forward, dropped to his knees and held Frodo in his arms. He knew there was nothing he could do to motivate his friend this time. So he just held him and spoke as comforting as he could think of. "Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo?" he asked. "It'll be spring soon. And the Orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields, and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" 

"No, Sam." Frodo said hoarsely. "I...I can't recall the taste of food...nor the sound of water or the touch of grass...There's...There's nothing…no veil between me...and the wheel of fire! I can see him with my waking eyes!"

"Then let us be rid of it!" Sam said. "Once and for all! Come on, Mr. Frodo! I may not be able to carry it for you, but I can carry you! Come on!" With a tremendous heave, he lifted Frodo onto his shoulders and began climbing step-by-step up the slopes of Mt. Doom.

* * *

The Company had sent their Horses away, back to Minas Tirith led by Shadowfax. There would be no need for them in this battle. The Orcs now completely surrounded the Men on all sides and more continued to pour from the gates. 

Gimli grunted and glanced up at Legolas and Boromir. "Well lads, I never thought I'd die fighting side-by-side with an Elf and a Man."

"What about side-by-side with friends?" Legolas asked.

Gimli smiled warmly. "Aye. I think I could do that." he said.

"Let's see how many Orcs we can each kill first, though." said Boromir.

Gimli grinned, fully back in form. "First to make an even fifty without dying wins!" he said happily.

"You're on!" Legolas and Boromir said together.

Gandalf shook his head at them and chuckled.

Merry looked nervously at Pippin. "Uh...Pip...If we die, I wanted you to know..."

"I know, Merry." said Pippin, smiling. "Me too."

Merry beamed and turned his attention back to the Orcs.

Aragorn cast one last look at his friends and smiled. "For Frodo and Sam." he said quietly. Then, he brought Anduril up and charged. Merry and Pippin gave small battle-cries and charged after him, followed by the rest of the army.

With a sound like a thunderclap, the two forces collided. It was no longer about Gondor and Rohan vs. Mordor. It was no longer even the Free Peoples against the Forces of evil. This was the ultimate clash of Light vs. Dark; winner takes all.

* * *

The temperature had risen to an almost unbearable level, but still Sam carried Frodo. He looked up and saw something that was definitely not a natural part of the mountain. It was a tall opening, framed by sharp metal spires. From within it came a deep orange and red glow. "Look, Mr. Frodo!" he said. "There's a doorway! We're almost there!" 

Suddenly, a figure rose from behind a rock, holding a wand pointed at them.

Sam's mouth fell open. "Mr. Draco?"

"Get down!" Draco cried.

Sam dropped Frodo and dove to the side as a jet of green light hit the ground where he had been standing. With his robes billowing behind him like a bat, Harry dropped from the sky. Sam and Frodo looked wildly at him and gasped when they saw the change that had come over his face. His skin had turned pale and hid eyes were red with black slits in the center.

Draco aimed his wand at Harry and fired a stunning spell. With a casual air, Harry flicked his wand and sent it careening harmlessly away.

"Sam, Frodo get away from here!" Draco cried. "You have to destroy the Ring quickly!" Sam grabbed Frodo's arm and dragged him away from the battle.

"Young Malfoy." sneered Harry, lazily blocking another of Draco's curses. "I confess myself to be a little...disappointed. I know, as your father has always known, that you were always going to be too weak-minded to join me. But that your magic is equally weak is nothing short of offensive."

Draco's eyes widened. "The Dark Lord..."

Lord Voldemort smiled and gave a mock salute with his wand. "In the flesh...or so to speak."

Draco circled to block him from Frodo and Sam's escape route. "You're not getting the Ring." he said. "I don't care if I have to kill you."

Voldemort laughed unpleasantly. "Kill me? Or kill dear Harry? Oh, poor Draco. Even if you could muster the will to do it, I would not be harmed. You would delay me, true enough. And You would severely irritate me. But above all, you would kill your little lover. Then what dreams will come, Draco?"

Draco brought his wand up. "_Stupefy!_"

Voldemort effortlessly deflected the attack.

Up ahead, Sam and Frodo had nearly reached the door when there was another unwelcome interruption. "Clever Hobbits to climb so high!" cried Gollum, tackling Sam to the ground and then leaping on Frodo and grabbing his throat. "Mustn't go that way!" he said mockingly. "Mustn't hurt the Precious!"

"You swore!" Frodo gasped. "You swore on the Precious! Smeagol promised!"

Gollum leered at him and grinned. "Smeagol lied."

The grip on Frodo's throat was suddenly released as a rock slammed into Gollum's head. Sam dove over Frodo and landed on Gollum, pummeling the miserable little creature for all he was worth. Gollum managed to catch one of Sam's arms and he sank his teeth into it. Sam yelled out in anger more than in pain and with one swift movement, he drew Sting and slashed wildly. Gollum fell over with a cry, clutching a wound in his chest. But Sam had no more attention to spare for him. He looked around and saw Frodo up and running towards the doorway. "Mr. Frodo!" he cried.

* * *

"Crucio_." Harry screamed writhed in pain on the floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Umbridge stood over him, her wand aimed at him. The rest of the class clapped and cheered. "You see, class, this is what an Unforgivable curse does to you." said Umbridge matter-of-factly. "It reduces you to a simpering, crying lump."_

"_Leave me alone..." Harry begged. _

_Umbridge shook her head and tisked. "Now, now, that won't do. You will have to raise your hand if you want to speak in my classroom, Mr. Potter. I think you need a little punishment. Gentlemen, if you will." He was suddenly hoisted to his feet by Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom pinned his arms behind his back. He looked up and saw Dudley cracking his knuckles. He knew somewhere in his mind that this was all wrong. This couldn't be happening. WHAM! Dudley's fist connected with the side of his head. _

"'_Atta boy, Dudders!" called Uncle Vernon from the back of the classroom. "Give him the old one-two!"_

"_He's such a strong boy!" said Aunt Petunia proudly. _

_The stars cleared slightly from his vision and he saw Draco sitting on the edge of Ron's desk, smirking. _

_WHAM! Dudley punched him in the stomach. Crabbe and Goyle let him go and he fell to the floor, gasping and coughing. He looked up weakly. "Draco, help me..."_

"_Do you know what it says about you in _The Rise of the Dark Arts_, about you Harry?" Hermione asked, stepping over him and holding a thick book. "It says your downfall was your willingness to drag everyone around you down with you. You tried to drag us all along on your fight with the Dark Lord, and look what's happened to you."_

_A student at the back of the classroom stood and walked forward. He wore, not Hogwarts standard robes, but the outfit of a Tri-Wizard Champion. Harry recoiled and retched. Cedric Diggory's skin was gaunt and rotted. In places, it was decayed and crawling with maggots. "Not pretty, is it?" he asked. "You did this to me, you know, Harry. It wasn't the Dark Lord. You killed me."_

_A large black dog stepped out from behind Cedric. "How could I have ever thought you were anything at all like James?" sneered Sirius._

"_You're wrong, actually, Black." sneered Professor Snape. "He's just like his dear father. Weak, arrogant, self-righteous."_

"_Draco, please!" Harry pleaded._

_Draco said nothing, but instead he smiled, leaned across Ron's desk and kissed him deeply on the lips. _

"_I think it's time for the lesson to begin again." said Umbridge sweetly. "Are we all ready? Excellent! _Crucio_!"_

* * *

"_Avada Kedavra_!" 

Draco spun out of the way and aimed his wand. "_Arania Exumai!_"

Voldemort flicked his wand. "Blocked, Malfoy. _Sectumsempra!_"

The spell cut a gash in Draco's cheek. He hissed in pain and aimed his wand again. "_Averte Statum_!"

"Blocked again." said Voldemort in a voice of weary resignation. "You will never learn-"

"_Cruci_-" A line of purple flame struck Draco like a whip and sent him crashing to the ground, gasping for breath.

Voldemort laughed. "An Unforgivable curse, Draco? How..._dark_ of you. Perhaps I was mistaken."

"I don't belong to you!" Draco growled, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Mr. Frodo!" came a frantic cry from further up. Voldemort looked up in time to see Sam dash into the doorway. He cast one last look at Draco and flew up towards the door.

* * *

Gandalf slew Orc after Orc. Not far away, he saw Merry and Pippin, dashing through the mob and slaying any monsters that came near them. Legolas was atop a dead Troll, launching arrows at blurred speeds. Boromir and Eomer stood back-to-back, covering each other. The Twins moved in perfect sync, killing enemies as if it were an art form. All he could see of Aragorn was the occasional flash of Anduril's gleaming blade as it flashed above the throng. The battle had, in short, turned into an all-out melee. The Men were beset on all sides and no matter how many Orcs were slain, there were always more to replace them. 

Several soul-chilling cries rose into the air as the remaining Nazgul flew over the gates and dove down towards the battle.

Gandalf knew that they would end it for the Forces of Good. So, he climbed to the top of a boulder and spread his arms, preparing to launch the all of most powerful magics he knew. This would drain him of all his energy and likely kill him, but he was prepared to make that sacrifice. But then, there was a very slight change in the wind. He looked up hopefully. Right above him, a tan and brown blur collided with a Nazgul. "The Eagles are coming!" he cried. "The Eagles are coming!" Down below, he heard Merry and Pippin take up the cry as well. They, who remembered well Bilbo's stories, knew of how the Eagles had come unlooked for at the darkest hour of the Battle of Five Armies and how Bilbo had cried out those same words.

Ten more giant Eagles dropped from the clouds and gave battle to the Nazgul. Heartened, the Men pressed the attack against the Orcs and even began to drive them back towards the gates.

But Sauron's forces weren't through yet. With loud roars, four gigantic armored Mountain Trolls began slamming their way through Man and Orc alike, swinging gigantic maces and swords.

Aragorn found himself close to one and, almost as if it knew who he was, it focused its attention entirely on him. Aragorn brought Anduril up and blocked a fierce strike from the monster's sword, but he felt his arm nearly break from the force of it. Even before he felt the pain, he found himself spinning through the air when the Troll backhanded him. He blacked out for a moment and when he awoke, the Troll was standing over him. He reached around for Anduril, but saw it laying five feet away, mockingly out of reach. The Troll's massive foot came down upon his chest and he very nearly blacked out again. But he kept his wits about him enough to remember the dagger Celeborn had given him. He drew it and slammed it up to the hilt into the Troll's foot. The creature roared in pain and staggered backwards enough for Aragorn to roll out of range. He quickly stopped and grabbed Anduril. But he was exhausted and in pain. He didn't know how much more he could take. The Troll stomped slowly towards him, brandishing its sword and grinning.

* * *

Sam staggered through the blazing heat. He felt that he wanted to pass out from it, but he knew he had to find Frodo. All around him was a roaring sound and glowing embers were flying through the air. Suddenly through the haze, he saw a small figure standing at the edge of an abyss, staring down. 

"Frodo!" he called.

Frodo turned slowly. "I'm here, Sam." he said. His voice was perfectly calm. He no longer gasped for breath and he appeared perfectly capable of standing upright on his own. Indeed, he didn't even seem to be affected by the heat.

"Go on!" Sam cried. "Throw it in the fire!"

Frodo looked down the fiery abyss before him and held out the Ring. But suddenly, Sam yelped in pain. Frodo turned back and saw the possessed Harry, holding Sam by his hair and jabbing his wand into his neck. "Give me the Ring, Halfling." Voldemort hissed.

"Don't do it!" Sam cried. "Destroy it!"

Voldemort tightened his grip on Sam's hair and increased the pressure on his neck. "Don't be a fool, Halfling. Give me the Ring or I will kill your friend."

"_Expeliarmus_!"

Sam flew from Voldemort's grip, but the Dark Lord kept his hold on his wand. "Malfoy, you are becoming a severe irritant!" he growled. "_Crucio!_" Draco screamed and fell to the ground. "Did you really think you could stop me? I have broken the bonds of Death itself! Nothing can stop me!" Voldemort raised his wand.

"I love you." Draco said quietly. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I want you to know, I love you."

Sam looked from Frodo to the wizards. "Mr. Frodo, destroy it while you have a chance!"

"No, Sam." Frodo said coldly. "I have come, but I do not choose now to do what I came to do. The Ring is mine!" He pulled it from its chain and set it on his finger. Immediately, he vanished.

"NO!" Sam cried, but them something struck him in the back of the head and he blacked out.

* * *

In that instant, a tremor went from the base of Barad Dur all the way to its crown. Sauron's eye wheeled around to gaze at Mount Doom. He saw Frodo and the magnitude of his own folly was laid bare before him. Down on the battlefield, every Orc and Troll blinked and faltered, suddenly having mo direction or purpose. Those Nazgul that remained in the air spun and made like the wind towards Mount Doom.

* * *

_Harry now lay motionless and naked on the floor. Only one remained, circling him and smirking. _

"_So weak. You're a fool, Harry Potter." said Lord Voldemort. "You see now how deeply foolish it was of you to oppose me? You see what I have reduced you to? You have lost everything and gained nothing." _

"I love you._" Harry's head rose at the sound of Draco's voice. "_I don't know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that I love you._"_

_Voldemort jerked as if he had been stung. _

_From the darkness at the back of the room rose a light. Many figures stepped out of it and began surrounding them. He saw the Fellowship and the Twins along with Theoden, Theodred, Eomer and Eowyn. He saw Elrond, Arwen, Bilbo, Galadriel, Celeborn and Haldir. But it was not only his friends from Middle Earth that stepped from the light. He also saw Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna along with Fred and George and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Cedric Diggory stepped from the light, alive and whole. Hagrid stepped out, followed by Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Moody, Kingsley, Tonks, and finally, Sirius. Then, his heart caught in his throat as his parents, Lily and James Potter joined the growing crowd. Then, two final figures stepped from the light; Draco, followed by Professor Dumbledore. _

"_It's not how you are alike that matters, Harry." said Dumbledore. "What matters is how you are different."_

_Harry looked around at all of his friends and then back at Voldemort. The Dark Lord stared it him, almost fearfully. "You're the weak one." Harry said. "You'll never know friendship..." he looked at Draco. "...or love. And I pity you."_

_Voldemort screamed and vanished in a flash of light._

* * *

At the same moment, Harry screamed and toppled to the floor. In an instant, the color returned to his skin and his eyes went back to normal. 

Just a short ways away, a very strange scene was taking place. Gollum was standing on the edge of the abyss, fighting like mad against thin air. But of course, this was not thin air, but really Frodo wearing the Ring. Gollum had been cowering in the doorway the whole time In the instant that Frodo had vanished, Gollum had sprung forward, struck Sam in the head with a rock and attacked Frodo. Suddenly, Gollum seemed to bring something up to his mouth. His teeth flashed as he bit down on it. Frodo reappeared, screaming and clutching his hand, which was now missing a finger. Gollum now held the Ring aloft. It shone as if it were wrought of living fire. "YES!" Gollum screamed and began dancing like one gone mad. "PRECIOUS! PRECIOUS! MY PRECIOUS!" But his wild dancing took him too close to the edge. For one moment, he wavered on the brink, and then, with a shriek, he fell. One last cry of "_PRECIOUS!_" came out of the chasm before all hell broke loose.

* * *

The Troll attacking Aragorn suddenly bellowed in terror and ran away, sending Orcs flying with great swings of his fists. The Orcs themselves also ran in every-which direction. For a terrible sound was coming from Barad Dur. It sounded like a great cry of pain and anguish. The Eye of Sauron blazed with a tremendous fire and clouds of black smoke were swirling above it. Then, with a loud crack, the base of Barad Dur itself broke. The tower began falling in on itself, taking all of the lower towers with it. When it was nearly to the ground, the Eye suddenly exploded, scattering all that remained of the tower across the land. The shockwave of the explosion spread out until it reached the battle, but it passed through the Men like a light breeze. What Orcs remained fell over dead and the Black Gates were torn asunder. 

"Frodo! Sam!" cried Merry and Pippin, and soon, the whole army had taken up the cheer.

But the celebration was short-lived. With a deafening concussion, the side of Mount Doom exploded outwards. Gandalf's eyes went wide and he whistled shrilly. Four Eagles dove down to him. He climbed on the back of Gawaihir, the same Eagle who had saved him from Isengard and had borne him after his battle with the Balrog, and they took off, like a gale, to save the lives of their greatest heroes.


	29. III: The Return of the King

_((Here it is, kids; The beginning of the end. After this, there's just an epilogue left. I still love reviews_ _you can still fill my disclaimer in here. Enjoy!))_

* * *

Frodo awoke, though he did not open his eyes. He felt a bed beneath him, and he could hear birds singing outside. He felt he must be dreaming, or else just waking up after a long nightmare.

"Where am I? What time is it?" he muttered.

"You are in the city of Minas Tirith." responded a soft, wonderfully familiar voice. "And it is nearly two-o-clock in the afternoon on April the Eighth if you want to know."

Frodo's eyes flew open. There, standing at the foot of his bed, robed all in white, was Gandalf.

First confusion and then shock and then joy spread through him like a wildfire. He sprung up from the bed and embraced the wizard with tears streaming down his face. Gandalf laughed and returned the hug.

"What has happened, Gandalf?" Frodo asked. "You fell...And now you're here and you are all in white!"

"All will be explained in due time, Frodo." Gandalf said, easing him back into his bed. He pulled a chair up and sat. "Tell me all you remember."

Frodo frowned as he thought back.

* * *

The Ring had been destroyed. And now it seemed, Sauron's final vengeance would fall upon those who did it. Mount Doom seemed to be tearing itself apart. Harry had awoken just in time and he and Draco had pulled Sam and Frodo out of the Crack of Doom and onto the tallest boulder they could find. There, the four heroes sat, as lava flowed on all sides. They knew there would be no escaping this one.

"I can see the Shire." Frodo said, sitting with his eyes closed. "The Brandywine River. Bag End. Gandalf's Fireworks. The lights in the Party Tree."

"Rosie Cotton dancing." Sam added sadly. "She had ribbons in her hair. If I was ever to marry someone, it would have been her." He burst into tears. "It would have been her."

Frodo put his arm around Sam's shoulder. "I'm glad you're here with me, Samwise Gamgee. Here, at the end of all things." He looked back and smiled at the wizards. "And I am glad I got to see both of you again, even if I don't understand everything that's happened."

Draco smiled wryly. "We're not that easy to get shot of, mate. And...I'm sorry about what I did and the things I said the last time we saw you."

Frodo shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry, Draco. You're not the only person the Ring ever took."

Harry smiled, but he couldn't find the energy or the will to speak. Upon waking up, everything Voldemort had done with control of his body came rushing into his mind. He was filled with sorrow and revulsion, but not just at that. He remembered how he had abandoned Draco just after they had been reunited. Voldemort wasn't to blame for that. Suddenly, Draco put an arm around his shoulder. Green eyes met grey and he knew that no more words needed to be spoken.

Eventually, the rising heat and the accumulated exhaustion from everything that had happened lowered all four heroes into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Gandalf smiled. "Excellent. You have suffered no more lasting harm. My fear was always that the Ring would exact some lasting vengeance on you. And perhaps it tried. But I have always said, you have some real strength in you, my dear Hobbit. And I can fill in the blank of how you got here." He went on to tell Frodo briefly of the battle at the Black Gates and of the timely arrival of the Eagles. "My friend, Gawaihir, was the one who found you and the others on the slopes of Mount Doom. And we arrived not a moment too soon."

Frodo suddenly sat up again. "Sam! Harry! Draco! Are they alright?"

Gandalf's face suddenly became grave. "See for yourself." he said. He stood slowly and opened the door. As soon as he did, a tumultuous noise assaulted the room as the entire Fellowship piled in and surrounded Frodo's bed, laughing and cheering. Merry and Pippin tackled him and both began talking rapidly at the same time.

"Frodo that was amazing-"

"The whole mountain just went BOOM-"

"And imagine old Gollum showing up-"

"It was better than Gandalf's fireworks-"

Frodo laughed and reveled in the company of his friends. For the next three hours, all the Fellowship exchanged tales of their journeys. Boromir showed them where he had been shot in the shoulder with an arrow during the last part of the battle. "It could have been much worse." he said wryly. Eventually, they were joined by the Twins, Eowyn and Faramir. Frodo and Sam were very glad to see Faramir again and were also happy to meet Eowyn.

The only one who had not joined in the storytelling was Sam. He merely sat with a contented smile.

"So, Samwise," Gandalf said, "what did you think of your first adventure?"

The Hobbit paused and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Well," he said slowly. "Adventures, the real ones leastways, seem a bit above my likes and dislikes, if you catch my meaning, Mr. Gandalf. It's like in the great stories. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes...sometimes you don't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But I think I understand now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of going back, only they didn't. Because they were holding on to something."

"What were they holding on to?" Legolas asked.

Sam smiled. "That there's some good in this world. And it's worth fighting for!"

Faramir smiled. "The Shire must truly be a marvelous realm where gardeners are such wise and noble folk." Eowyn laughed girlishly and the two clasped hands.

Boromir raised an eyebrow and a slow smile spread across his face. "Now when did _this_ happen?"

They looked at each other and both blushed. "Well, we were both in the House of Healing together and it just seemed...right. Do you approve?"

Boromir laughed and embraced him. "Little brother, as long as you find joy, I approve a hundred times over."

Eowyn looked at Aragorn. "Do _you_ wish me joy, my lord and healer?"

Aragorn smiled warmly. "I have wished you joy since the day I met you, Eowyn. It makes me glad to see you now in bliss."

Eowyn's face lit up and she embraced him, not as one sick with love, but as a good friend.

After a while, Draco tapped Harry and jerked his head towards the door. Harry cleared his throat. "We're...uh...gonna go get a breath of fresh air if that's alright."

Elladan and Elrohir grinned at each other. They looked like they wanted to make some remark, but Eowyn shot them a very Hermione-like look and they quickly shut up.

"We should all go." said Gandalf. "Frodo still needs rest. And we have a busy time ahead of us."

* * *

Harry and Draco went to the house they had been assigned. It was almost a reverse of the scene that had played out at Helm's Deep. As soon as the door shut, Harry pinned Draco to the wall in a passionate kiss. Without even breaking the kiss, they moved to the bed.

* * *

There was much to keep everyone busy over the next three months. Messengers were sent to every corner of Middle Earth, announcing Aragorn's upcoming coronation. There was also much repair work needed in Minas Tirith, but they received some unexpected help with that in the form of a group of Gimli's kinsmen from the Lonely Mountain led by his father, Gloin. They repaired and made stronger the walls and houses and they even built a new gate out of steel and mithril. They also brought news, both good and bad. Apparently, Sauron had launched simultaneous attacks all over Middle Earth. An army of Orcs from the North and Men from the East had laid siege to the Lonely Mountain. In the battle, King Dain of the Dwarves had been killed along with King Brand of Dale. But the battle had been won when the Wizard, Radagast had arrived with a large force of Eagles from the Misty Mountains and Beornings from the edges of Mirkwood. And Lothlorien had been attacked by Goblins from Moria and fell creatures from Dol Guldur. But thanks to the power of Celeborn and backup from the Elves of Mirkwood, the enemy had been driven back. But it hadn't ended there. The Elves organized and followed them all the way back to Dol Guldur and in the end, Galadriel herself came out and helped throw the dark fortress down.

So, while everyone had a great deal of work to do, all was well in Minas Tirith. However, there was, too, the less happy need to bury Theoden and Theodred.

At Edoras, Harry and Draco bore Theodred's body while Aragorn and Eomer bore the body of Theoden. As they passed, Eowyn sang a slow funeral song in the rich, earthy language of the Rohirrim.

"_Bealocwealm hafad fréone frecan forth onsended  
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende  
on Meduselde bæt he ma no wære  
his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost_."

Father and Son were lain in tombs of stone and mounds were raised over them. Grass covered the mounds, and also white Simblemynë.

Merry wept especially for Theoden who had been as close as a father to him. Suddenly, he sang out his own song in honor of the fallen king.

"_Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising  
he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.  
Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended;  
over death, over dread, over doom lifted  
out of loss, out of life, unto long glory_."

Eomer smiled and laid his hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "No more fitting tribute could any King of Men ask for. And, though you have many times over served this country, I would have you retain your position as Esquire of Rohan if that is your will."

Merry beamed. "I would like that very much, your majesty."

Eomer and Eowyn wanted to give Merry gold and many gifts, but in the end he would accept only the armor he had worn to battle and a small horn, skillfully carved with the images of horses and riders.

"This was made long ago by Dwarven Craftsmen." explained Eowyn. "It was liberated from the horde of Scatha the Dragon some hundred years ago by our ancestors. Take it in memory of Dernhelm and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in the morning."

Merry bowed. "Thank you my Lord and Lady. I shall never forget your kindness."

The new king of Rohan went too to Harry. "We owe you much that can never be fully repaid."

Harry smiled. "It's okay. I was glad to help."

"Even so." said Eomer. "I would like to seal your bond with Rohan if you are willing." He held up a shining sword with a golden hilt. "This belonged to Theodred. Take it and kneel if you will."

Harry did so and Eomer placed a hand on his head. "Harry, Son of James, for your bravery and service to Rohan and its people, I name you Knight of Rohan and the Royal Household of Meduseld. Rise now and bear your sword unto good fortune."

Harry rose and bowed. "Rohan will always have my loyalty."

With their business in Rohan done, they made to return to Minas Tirith. Eowyn remained for the time being. "There is still much hurt to be healed here. But I will not be away long."

* * *

It was a bright summer's morning and the Courtyard of the Citadel was filled as never before. Families who had fled Minas Tirith for safer parts of Gondor returned. Out of the North came a hundred men in grey cloaks that were clasped with silver stars. These were the Dunedain, Aragorn's Rangers and the last remnants of the Men of Numenor. Prince Imrahil, Lord of the city of Dol Amroth came with his knights in shining silver armor and sea-blue cloaks. Upon their bright shields was set the image of a great white swan. There came also emissaries from Dale, the Lonely Mountain, Mirkwood, and the Iron Hills. From Rivendell and Lothlorien came a riding of fair folk, including Elrond, Glorfindel, Galadriel and Celeborn. Eomer and Eowyn returned from Rohan, along with the Riders of their Household. And last, but not least, all the Fellowship, the Twins and Faramir were there. And to the wonder of all, the White Tree was in full bloom, shining in the sunlight.

In front of the doors to the Citadel stood Gandalf and on either side of him, Draco and Harry. They had finally discarded their torn and dirty Hogwarts robes. Harry now wore a green tunic, trimmed with gold and a matching cloak. At his hip hung Theodred's sword. Beneath his tunic, he wore a coat of bronze mail. On his chest was the emblem of Meduseld; a rearing white horse. Draco similarly wore a black tunic with the image of the White Tree, crowned with seven stars and a black cloak, lined with silver. Beneath, he wore a coat of silver mail and resting at his hip was the curved Elven sword he had been given in Rivendell at the start of the journey.

In their hands, both Harry and Draco held very important objects. Draco held a silver scepter capped with gold. This was the Scepter of Annúminas, the mark of Kingship over the Northern Kingdom of Arnor. Harry held, upon a crimson cushion, a gold and silver crown, crafted with its crest shaped like the wings of Sea Birds. This was the Crown of Gondor, the symbol of Kingship over the Southern Kingdom.

The crowd was silent as Aragorn walked slowly forward, dressed in the Armor of the King. He knelt before Gandalf. First the wizard took the crown and set it upon Aragorn's head. Then he took the scepter and placed it in his hands. As Aragorn rose, Gandalf called out to the crowd. "Now come the days of the King! May they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"

Aragorn turned to the crowd and sang in a clear voice, "_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!_" (Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.) Everyone broke into loud cheering. As he walked out to them, Boromir stepped forward and kneeled before him. "The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office."

Aragorn smiled. "That office is not now ended. It shall ever be yours and your heirs' and you shall be chief among my councilors. Faramir, come forth as well." He too came forward and knelt before the King. "You shall be Prince of Ithilien and master of the city of Osgiliath once it has been rebuilt. Rise now, Steward and Prince."

Aragorn now moved down the center of the crowd, greeting all of the emissaries. He passed Gimli and Gloin who both looked rather clean and well-groomed for Dwarves. Gimli grinned and bowed. On the other side of the courtyard stood Eomer and Eowyn, the former now in the Royal Armor of Rohan and the latter dressed in an emerald gown with a golden circlet atop her head. Both also smiled and bowed. Finally, he came to a group that all gazed upon with awe. At their forefront stood Galadriel and Celeborn, both of whom he was surprised to find bowed respectfully. Next he greeted Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, all of whom wore mysterious smiles. As they moved aside, Aragorn saw Elrond, beaming in a fatherly manner. Also there was Glorfindel who smiled and inclined his head. Between them was a woman whose face was hidden by a banner she bore. As the moved the banner aside, Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Arwen wore a pale green dress and a delicate silver crown set with shimmering white jewels. Elrond whispered in her ear and she walked slowly forward, her eyes shimmering with tears of love and joy. But as she grew close, she dipped her head in respect. Aragorn's eyes widened and he quickly lifted her head. With one movement, he had taken the banner, thrust it into the hands of a woman in the crowd, and caught Arwen in a passionate kiss.

Everyone cheered and someone gave a wolf whistle. (Draco later claimed Harry had done in and Harry claimed the opposite. The Twins both claimed responsibility.)

After the kiss was finally broken, Aragorn took Arwen's hand and led her through the crowd to the final group of "emissaries."

The four Hobbits looked at each other nervously and then began to bow. Aragorn held his hands up to them. "My friends!" he exclaimed. "You bow to no one." He smiled, dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Immediately, everyone in the courtyard followed suit. From the Kings and Queens of the nations of Men to the great Lords and Ladies of the Elves, all knelt before four little Hobbits from the tiny land of the Shire.

* * *

July turned to August and despite their desire to remain together, the Fellowship began to speak of returning to their homes. The Hobbits wanted to be back in Rivendell by September so that they could see old Bilbo on his birthday. Legolas and Gimli were both going to return to their homes briefly and then they planned to take a trek across Middle Earth together to see both Fangorn Forest and the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep again. And Harry and Draco...They didn't quite know what they were going to do.

"I guess...I always somehow connected the destruction of the Ring with us getting home." said Harry when Gandalf asked them what they planned to do.

"Aragorn has asked me to tell you both that you are welcome to remain here in Minas Tirith." the Wizard said. "Eomer too has offered you both a place in Rohan."

Draco sighed. "I think for now we're going to go back to Rivendell. We want to see Bilbo again. And the Hobbits want us to see the Shire properly. Merry and Pippin seemed positively gleeful about how much the sight of two Humans riding up over the Hill would upset their neighbors. After that...I don't know."

Gandalf nodded. "Well, we will..." He trailed off and looked up into the sky, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"What is it, Gandalf?" Harry asked.

The Wizard shook his head and turned his attention back to them. "Hm? Oh, nothing. As I was saying, we will depart in two days." He nodded to them and left quickly.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Draco asked.

* * *

Early the next day, both Harry and Draco received summons to the Citadel from Gandalf. Neither knew what it was about, but they thought it best not to keep him waiting. When they arrived, they found him standing by the Tower of Echthelion. He nodded to them. "Thank you for coming. Would you both please come inside?" They glanced at each other nervously, but they followed him. He led them up many winding flights of stairs. Out the occasional windows, they could see the city growing smaller below them. At last, they arrived at what seemed to be the top. Gandalf pushed open a large oak door and ushered them inside. As soon as they had stepped across the threshold, a pleasant voice spoke. "Good morning, Harry, Draco."

Both young wizards stopped in their tracks and gaped at the speaker. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. But it was. Sitting in a cushy armchair and looking distinctly out-of-place was Professor Dumbledore. He stood and smiled warmly. Harry, broken out of his stupor, dashed forward and hugged the old man tightly. Dumbledore looked startled but then chuckled and returned the hug. "I am glad to see you as well, Harry." Harry stepped back and took in every facet of Dumbledore's appearance. Everything was as he remembered; the tasseled hat, the half-moon spectacles perched atop the broken nose, the beard that was as white as Gandalf's and even longer, and finally, the twinkling blue eyes.

Draco stood back, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open slightly. "When...How..."

Dumbledore chuckled and waved his wand. Two more arm-chairs appeared along with a dusty bottle full of amber-colored liquid and four glasses. "Perhaps you should both sit down and have a drink first." Harry and Draco both nodded and sat.

The bottle poured its contents into the glasses and one floated to each of the room's occupants. "Madame Rosemerta's Mulled Mead." Dumbledore said. He took a sip. "Ah. Quite excellent." Harry followed suit. The beverage was warm and sweet. He had never tasted anything quite like it.

"Now then," said Dumbledore. "I will answer your questions, Mr. Malfoy. As for when, the answer is yesterday afternoon. I am sorry I didn't let you both know sooner, but I had a great many things to discuss with Mr. Gandalf here."

"Do you know each other?" Harry asked incredulously.

"We do now." said Gandalf. "I felt your Professor's arrival in Middle Earth yesterday."

Dumbledore nodded. "As for how, that is a bit more complicated. The both of you have spent very nearly a year in Middle Earth. But for me, it has been a little over two months since you vanished."

"How is that possible?" Draco asked.

"Middle Earth's time runs rather differently that our own time." Dumbledore explained. "It could be stranger, though. I once met a young man who spent twenty years in another world and then returned to his own at the exact moment he had left and suddenly at the same age he had been. But I digress. Now, keep in mind that we cannot be absolutely certain of everything that has occurred around that strange night you both vanished. But based on available information and much discussion between myself and Gandalf, I believe that we have a reasonable account of events. Now, one key fact that you should know is that Lord Voldemort has always been obsessed with collecting powerful magical artifacts. His favorites were items owned by the four founders of Hogwarts. As a young man, he worked at Borgin and Burke's. I believe you both know the place?"

Draco and Harry both nodded. "It's a shop that sells rare magical, most often Dark)) Objects." Draco said.

Dumbledore nodded and continued. "Well, during his time there, he did a great deal of research, in particular, about objects owned by Salazar Slytherin. One day, he came across a reference in one of Slytherin's last writings referring to an orb that could see into another world. This intrigued Voldemort, but not enough that he put true effort into finding it. We now jump ahead some years to three months after you saw him return, Harry. He went to Bulgaria to hunt down Igor Karkaroff who had most unwisely tried to flee from him. Sadly, he succeeded. Before he left, he searched through Karkaroff's possessions. I don't know how or when Karkaroff had obtained it, but Voldemort found among his things, a stone very much like the one Slytherin had described. It was indeed one of the lost Palantir Stones from Middle Earth. How it came to be in out own world, I think we may never know. It did not take Voldemort long to learn how to bend the Palantir to his will. And when he did, he made contact with Salazar Slytherin who had come to be known as Saruman."

"We believe," said Gandalf, "that Saruman underestimated your Lord Voldemort at this time. My predecessor's greatest failing was his own hubris. In his mind, the heir was obviously the lesser. So, quite foolishly, he told Voldemort of the Ring and his desire for it. It had only been lately discovered through Sauron's torture of Gollum that the Ring was in the Shire and being held by a Hobbit. Both Saruman and Voldemort knew that if the Nazgul got to him first, the Ring would go back to Sauron. And Saruman also knew that I would eventually send the Ring to Rivendell, but that I would not take it by my own hands. They needed someone who could get close to Frodo."

Dumbledore continued. "This someone had to be someone the Ringbearer could trust and who could fight off the Nazgul if pressed. Saruman could not go himself, for that would reveal his intentions to Sauron. And Voldemort, looking the way he does, would hardly be trusted. But then the answer fell into his lap. It was Saruman who figured out how deeply Voldemort and you, Harry, are connected. Knowing something of mental possession, he determined that the connection would remain, even across a span of dimensions. So, the means was determined. Now they simply needed a way to get you into Middle Earth. I'm afraid poor Professor Trelawney was their key player. During the summer, she received a letter saying that an old friend of hers would be passing through Hogsmeade. So, she left the castle to meet him at the Three Broomsticks. Her friend was not, of course, there. Instead, she was met by a Death Eater. He placed her under the Imperius Curse and gave to her the Palantir and an invisibility cloak."

"An invisibility cloak? What for?" Draco asked.

"To instigate a fight between the two of you." Dumbledore answered. "What do you recall of how your duel in the hallway started?"

Draco and Harry both thought back. It was Harry who answered first. "I passed Draco in the hall and then a spell went past my ear. I pulled out my wand and I turned around. Draco had his wand out so I knew it was him."

Draco's eyes went wide. "What? That's the same thing that happened to me. I was actually surprised you'd start a fight, but then you'd been so moody since the year started, I figured you'd finally snapped."

Dumbledore nodded. "Both of your version of events is correct. Though neither of you fired that initial spell. That was Professor Trelawney under the cloak. She sparked a duel between the two of you and then sent a request to Professor McGonagall that your detentions be served with her. As soon as you were in her study, she drew your attention to the Palantir and then left the room."

"What about the prophesy she made?" Harry interrupted. "Was that real or something she was ordered to do under the curse?"

Dumbledore actually looked astonished. "I knew of no prophesy. What did it say?" Harry related to Dumbledore what Trelawney had said. The Professor looked thoughtful. "Fascinating. I believe that it was genuine. Prophesies are mysterious things. I do not wonder that it broke through the curse. But in any case, Voldemort's plan began to crumble at this point. For it was Draco and not you who first took interest in the Palantir. And when he took hold of it, their folly was fully realized. For you see, their plans were not so secret as they had supposed."

Gandalf nodded. "Sauron had quietly listened in on them through his own Palantir. And he was waiting. As soon as you touched the stone, Mr. Malfoy, he assailed you, thinking you were Harry. He became aware of his mistake as soon as you too touched the Stone, Harry, and he tried to turn his malice on to you, but by then it was too late. In the brief lapse between switching targets, Saruman performed his magic and you were both pulled into Middle Earth. But for a while, he was not aware that he had been successful. Soon after you both came here, Voldemort tried to enter your mind, Harry, and found that you were blocked from him. He could see into your mind, but he could not enter it himself. And Sauruman had not felt you arrive, as he should have. So he too that he had failed. But in reality, your mind was being shielded."

"By who?" Harry asked. "You? Galadriel? Elrond?"

Gandalf shook his head. "None of us was aware of your arrival either. Believe it or not, your shield against Voldemort was Sauron himself. Do not look so shocked. It was not for your benefit. He was merely protecting the Ring from Voldemort. This protection remained for a very long time. Galadriel took special interest in you when you went to Lothlorien because she felt Sauron's shadow upon you. The protection only broke after the battle at Minas Tirith. It was then that Sauron could spare you no more of his energy. Aragorn had made himself known and war was marching upon Mordor. All of his thought was bent upon controlling his armies. Voldemort was aware of this and he made his move."

"Meanwhile, I had not been idle." said Dumbledore. "I felt you both leave this world and I rushed up to Professor Trelawney's tower. There, she attacked me and I was forced to subdue her. I then went for the Palantir. But as soon as I touched it, Sauron assaulted me. That was a trial, I do not mind telling you and it was nearly my end. But I escaped. I despaired after that. I knew that I could not withstand another attack, so I was forced to abandon hope of coming after the both of you. For two months, the Palantir sat, covered in my office. Then, one day, I felt the time was right to try again. Imagine my surprise when I found the way free and clear."

"The Ring had been destroyed." realized Harry.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. And so, here we all sit together at long last."

Harry and Draco were silent for a while, pondering all they had heard. "I only have one question." Draco said. "Why was the Dark L-I mean...V-Voldemort willing to allow Saruman to have the Ring?"

"Oh, he never intended to deliver the Ring to Saruman." said Dumbledore. "He would certainly have taken it for his own. I would love dearly to say that he would not have been able to bend it to his will, but I believe that after a bitter struggle, the Ring would have had a new Master."

"But Professor," Harry said, "when I looked into Galadriel's Mirror, I saw Voldemort allied with Sauron."

"There is one thing you must understand, Harry." explained Dumbledore. "Lord Voldemort is, above all, a survivor. Given the choice between utter defeat and serving Sauron, he would choose the latter."

"So what happens now?" Draco asked.

"Now," said Dumbledore, "the choice is up to the both of you. I would be overjoyed if you both returned, but I will not try and push you either way. You may come back to Hogwarts or you may stay here in Middle Earth. But keep one thing in mind when you choose; One was or another, there can be no more travel between our world and this one. The balance must be maintained. If Voldemort were ever to regain the Palantir, he would exact terrible vengeance upon this world. And there are still those in Middle Earth who would crave the magic of our world for their own twisted purposes. So do not be hasty in your decision. I recommend that you take tonight to sleep on it. I will await your decision."

Harry and Draco said goodbye to Gandalf and Dumbledore for the time being and they left the tower. As they walked through the city, neither of them spoke. The choice _seemed_ clear. But as with all things of this sort, it was not truly so easy. They both desired desperately to see Hogwarts again. But the thought that they would never see their friends, never see Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Gandalf, Elladan, Elrohir, Eowyn, Faramir or Eomer again was almost inconceivable. That night, neither of them slept a wink. They spoke little. Mostly, they lay awake, staring at the ceiling. It was in the wee hours of the morning, that they both looked at each other and made their decision.

* * *

The next morning, they called their friends together and told them everything.

"So what are you going to do?" Faramir asked. "I take it you have made your decision?"

Harry looked at Draco and took a deep breath. "We're going back to Hogwarts."

For a very long time, everyone was silent. Dumbledore and Gandalf stood a short ways off, observing.

And so, Harry and Draco began the long, sad task of bidding goodbye their friends with whom they had passed through wilderness and through war.

Boromir embraced them both. "It is a long way, is it not, since you told me to shut up at the Council?" he asked Harry, smiling. "You are my friends and you are forever friends of Gondor."

Next they came to Gimli who was blubbering unashamedly. He too hugged them both. "I'll miss you, laddies. I shall think of you both every time I cleave an Orc neck."

Legolas laid his hands on their shoulders. "_Limaria_, _melloneamin_. I name you Elf-friends. Though you shall not, perhaps, return to Middle Earth, you will be remembered and my people will sing songs of you."

Aragorn embraced them and even his eyes were damp. "Goodbye, brave Wizards. From the moment we met in Bree, I have loved you as brothers." he said. "Middle Earth will be a distinctly less cheerful place without you in it."

The Twins hugged the Wizards. "The Dwarf can have his Orc necks." Elladan said.

"But every prank we play will be in your names." finished Elrohir.

"Give Middle Earth hell for us." Draco said, smiling.

Draco and Faramir had a tearful farewell, while Harry embraced a weeping Eowyn.

Finally, they came to the Hobbits, all of whom were weeping bitterly.

"We don't want you to leave." said Pippin. "We were going to show you the Shire."

"And what are we going to tell poor old Bilbo?" Merry asked. "He was going to put your adventures down in a book."

Harry smiled. Bilbo had told him about it and had even come up with a name; Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

They kissed Merry and Pippin on their foreheads. "Don't you two ever change." Harry said. "If more people valued food and drink and a cheerful song with good friends over gold and jewels, the world would be a happier place."

Finally, they came to Frodo and Sam. "I think I'm going to miss you two most of all." Draco said. "You gave us all hope when we had none. It just goes to show that even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

They sobbed and embraced the Wizards.

"I'm afraid it is time to go." said Professor Dumbledore quietly. Harry and Draco nodded and walked over to him. In his hands, he held the Palantir of Isengard. "Both of you put a hand on the stone." he said. They took one last look at their friends and then slowly placed their hands on the Stone's cool, smooth surface.

There was no sound or flash of light. One moment, the three Wizards stood there around the Palantir. The next moment, they were gone and the stone fell with a thud to the ground.

Gandalf smiled and looked up into the sky. "Until our next meeting." he whispered.


	30. III: There and Back Again

_((Ummm...So I fibbed. I wanted to put the epilogue in here, but it didn't really fit. So there's one more chapter after this. You are very excited! I'm going to be a rebel and not put my disclaimer here for once. But still, please review!))_

* * *

_When the cold of winter comes  
Starless night will cover day  
In the veiling of the Sun  
We will walk in bitter rain  
But in dreams  
I can hear your name  
And in dreams  
We will meet again_

_When the seas and mountains fall  
And we come to end of days  
In the dark I hear a call  
Calling me there  
I will go there  
And back again_

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, it took a few seconds to process how drastically his surroundings had changed. Where he had been standing beneath the White Tree in Minas Tirith, he now stood in a large, warmly lit room, filled with all manner of strange objects. Neatly lined up on shelves around the walls were many books and odd, whirring devices that occasionally emitted little puffs of colored smoke. On the large oak desk sat a shallow basin, filled with a swirling silver substance. On a golden perch by the desk sat a large bird with beautiful red feathers. It gave a musical trill when it saw Harry. Outside the large window, snow sat on the ledge and laughing voices floated up faintly. 

There was no doubt. They were home.

Professor Dumbledore went to his desk, where Harry and Draco now noticed, sat the Palantir that had sent them on their journey so very long ago.

"So you're going to destroy it then?" asked Draco.

Dumbledore smiled. "No, Mr. Malfoy. Even if I could, I would not. I know I told you that there would never again be travel between our world and Middle Earth. But 'never' is too vast a word for even the immortal folk you met. Rather, I will see that it is kept safe from those who would abuse its power."

Harry went over to golden perch and began stroking Fawkes's chest. "I wonder if we'll ever see any of them again." he said sadly.

"You may yet, Mr. Potter." said Dumbledore. "You may. But for now, I imagine that there are some old friends who wish to see you." He raised his wand and a silver Phoenix flew gracefully out and through the door. A few moments later, the stairs outside the office echoed with the sounds of many footsteps. The door flew open and Harry hardly had time to register the faces he saw before he found himself crushed in a dual hug by a girl with bushy brown hair and a plump woman with bright red hair.

"Harry! Oh, Harry! We've missed you so much!" They both said at the same time.

"Mum, Hermoine, don't suffocate the man." said another voice. Harry managed to pry Hermoine and Mrs. Weasley off and he grinned at Ron who hesitated a moment and then conceded and hugged his friend. "Blimey, mate." Ron said when they had separated. "What the bloody hell happened to you?"

Harry caught sight of his reflection in the window and it dawned on him how different he looked. His hair was rather longer, his chin bore the stubble of a beard and his face was tan and weather-beaten. On top of that, where he had once been skinny and lanky, he was now lean and muscular. And, he realized, his tunic and cloak and chain-mail, not to mention the sword, must have been a strange sight indeed.

Mr. Weasley, too, came forward and shook his hand. "It's good to see you again, Harry. You don't know what a scare you gave us."

"Lemme through! Lemme through!" The massive form of Hagrid squeezed through the door and grabbed Harry in a bone-crushing hug that lifted him up off the floor. "W-we though' you migha' been d-dead!" Hagrid sobbed. "Don' you ever do that t' us again!" Harry laughed, despite the fact that Hagrid's hug was causing his chain-mail to dig painfully into his skin.

Professor McGonagall came in behind Hagrid, and, to his shock, also hugged him. "Oh, this was all my fault!" she said, her voice wavering. "If I hadn't given you detention...Oh but you're alright now..."

Throughout all this, Draco had stood back, his face composed into a carefully neutral expression. _It's going to go back to the way it was._ he thought. But then, another figure came into the room and silence fell. Lucius Malfoy shoved Harry out of the way with his cane and, without even glancing at Draco, strode up to Dumbledore. "So." he said.

"Lucius. I am glad to see you received my letter." said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"Oh, I received it." said Lucius. "And I will be removing my son from this school. You leave dangerous magical objects laying about where children can find them and then you proceed to lose them for months at a time. Rest assured the Ministry will hear of this. I'm very nearly of a mind to-"

"Shut up."

Every eye fell on the speaker and every mouth was hanging open, except Dumbledore's. Draco was standing, staring at his father with his fists clenched.

"What did you say to me?" Lucius hissed.

"I said shut up." Draco replied coldly. "You want to blame someone, go talk to your Master. But then you already know all about what happened, don't you? You're probably the one who put Trelawney under the Imperius curse! So unless you've got something important to say, then get out of here and go tell Voldemort where he can shove it!"

Lucius' face went livid red and he reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. But at that moment, a sword blade rent the air and sliced the wand cleanly in half. Lucius stumbled backwards into the desk, staring down at the point of Harry's sword. "This blade was the bane of the Nazgul's fell beast." Harry said in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. "Get out of my sight or it will be the last thing you ever see."

Nobody spoke except Hagrid who muttered "Blimey..."

Lucius cast one look full of loathing at Draco and then stormed from the room.

Draco laughed humorlessly. "I guess I'm homeless now." he said.

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Weasley, grinning from ear-to-ear and obviously filled with glee at the sight of Lucius Malfoy being put in his place. "You can come and stay with us for a while."

"Dad!" exclaimed Ron, looking horrified.

"Weas-...Ron..." Draco said nervously. "I'm sorry for everything I've done and said to you. To all of you. I was a right foul little prat and I hope you can forgive me."

Ron stared at him. "Bloody hell...What DID happen to you two?"

* * *

It took several hours, but Harry and Draco retold their tale to everyone. Even the portraits of the past Head Masters stopped pretending to snooze in their frames and leaned forward to listen. But none of the reactions were so shocked as those they received when Draco and Harry announced their relationship. 

"Oh Harry, I never knew..." said Hermione.

"It's not that he's a guy, mate. Honestly." said Ron quickly. "I mean my brother Charlie likes guys. But you and _Malfoy_? It's just...a lot to take in."

Mrs. Weasley was clutching her chest by the end of the story. "Oh my dears..." she gasped. "The number of times you could have died...Those horrid Orcs creatures...and You-Know-Who!"

"They're fine, Molly." said Mr. Weasley, handing his wife a strong cup of tea that Dumbledore had conjured. "Well, it sounds like you boys have had quite an adventure."

"Yes indeed. They both showed surpassing courage." said a soft voice. Everyone looked up. On a high shelf, a rip had opened in the brim of the Sorting Hat. "You know, I think you're right, Professor. We _do_ sort too early."

Dumbledore smiled. "Are you saying what you seem to be saying?"

The Hat chuckled. "We all make hasty decisions sometimes, Professor. In light of what I have heard here today, I think I should have another look inside Mr. Malfoy's head." Dumbledore took the Hat down off the shelf and placed it on Draco's head. "Hmmm." said a small voice in Draco's ear. "I see much more than I did four years ago. Much more indeed. You could still go far in Slytherin. And they won't make it easy on you if you leave. What do you think?" Draco looked at Harry and smiled. The hat seemed to feel his resolve. "Well, if you're sure, better be...GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

The news of what had happened spread through Hogwarts like a tidal wave. But still, nothing received such shock as the news that Draco Malfoy had been resorted into Gryffindor and that he and Harry Potter were in a relationship. And all was not well. There were still those with prejudices, and every one of the Slytherins made Draco the new target of their disdain. But none of it seemed to affect either boy. By and large, life went back to normal for them. But few could deny the change had settled over them. Both Harry and Draco seemed to hold a strong poise and confidence. They both mastered new spells almost as fast as Hermione and nothing seemed to shake them. 

Professors Umbridge seemed determined to get a rise out of Harry, but he would just nod and say "Yes ma'am." And for once, Professor Snape's vindictiveness was focused, not on Harry, but on Draco. But Draco, too, would just smile politely and go about his work. Often times, one or both of them could be heard humming strange songs under their breaths. Harry's favorite was one Bilbo had taught him.

_The road goes ever on and on  
Down from the door where it began.  
Now far ahead the road has gone  
And I must follow it if I can..._

And though they were not permitted to wear their swords and livery in school, both would always wear, clasped to their robes, a silver and gold brooch in the shape of a Malorn leaf.

* * *

_But when Sam asked for the hand of fair Rosie Cotton, it was the bravest thing he ever did._

Frodo smiled and looked down at the last words of his own story. It had taken him nearly four years, but it was finished at last. _At least my part is._ he thought He flipped back to the inside cover and penned in his own title. He heard the front door of Bag End open and close.

"Mr. Frodo?" called Sam's voice.

"I'm in here, Sam." Frodo answered. Suddenly, he winced and grabbed his shoulder. He looked at the calender and sighed.

"Frodo?" said Sam's worried voice behind him.

Frodo smiled up at his friend. "It's been four years to the day since Weathertop, Sam. It's never really healed.

Sam nodded and looked down at the book before Frodo. "'_There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale_' by Bilbo Baggins. And '_The Lord of the Rings_' by Frodo Baggins. You've finished it!"

Frodo closed the book's faded red cover. "I have. But there's room for a little more."

Sam looked curiously at Frodo for a moment. "Well," he said, "They're on their way. Merry and Pippin met them at the Bridge. They sent me ahead to tell you."

Frodo nodded and followed Sam out the front door. Two ponies were tethered there. One, Frodo had fondly named Strider. The second was none other than Bill, the pony they had bought in Bree all those years ago. He had found his way back to Rivendell after they had released him and Elrond had returned him to Sam when they got back.

Within moments, they saw three small shapes and one large one riding up over the Hill. Gandalf sat tall atop Shadowfax, his white robes gleaming in the sun's last rays. He now wore openly on his finger, Narya, one of the three Rings, originally given to the Elves. In front of him rode Merry and Pippin on their own ponies, Draco and Harry. And lagging slightly behind them was an ancient-looking Hobbit, his head nodding slightly. When they stopped, he looked up. Despite his advanced age, Bilbo's eyes were still bright. "Hullo, Frodo, my lad." he said. "Well, I've surpassed the Old Took today. So where are we going? Gandalf is being terribly mysterious."

Frodo smiled. "We're going to the Grey Havens, Uncle. The Elves have accorded you a special honor; a place on the last ship to leave Middle Earth."

And so, in the waning sunlight, five Hobbits and one Wizard set off west.

Frodo rode on one side of Bilbo, with Sam on the other. They sometimes had to push him back upright in his saddle when he nodded off. At one point, he looked at Frodo again. "Frodo, my lad, do you think I might have another look at my old Ring? The one I gave to you?"

Frodo looked wistfully at the horizon. "I'm sorry, Uncle." he said quietly. "I'm afraid I lost it."

"Oh...Pity." said Bilbo. "I should like to have held it one last time. But there I go forgetting again. That's what your big adventure was all about, wasn't it? Imagine, my old Ring causing such a ruckuss..." With that, he nodded off again.

Early the next day, the air grew salty and distantly could be heard the crashing of waves and the calling of gulls.

Rising about them now were cliffs, which fair houses and tall towers had been built in to. But although fair, the place was empty of voices. It wasn't until they came to the end of the winding road that they found life.

Moored at a dock was a single white ship, gracefully carved and engraved with runes.

"Oh!" exclaimed Bilbo, as he gazed out upon the sea, which no Hobbit had laid eyes on. "Well here's a sight I've not seen!"

Standing by the boat was a small group of individuals. There was Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, Celeborn and Galadriel.

Galadriel smiled at the Hobbits. "The power of the Three Rings is now ended. The time has come for the Dominion of Men."

Elrond nodded. "_I Aear can vên na mar._"_ (The sea calls us home.) _

Bilbo grinned and all weariness seemed to fall from his in an instant. Suddenly, he was the same young Hobbit who had taunted a Dragon over sixty years before. "I think I'm quite ready for another adventure!" he said. He tossed his walking stick to one side and walked alongside Elrond onto the ship.

"Come on, Brother." Elladan said. "There's a whole new country for us to see."

"Who should get the honors of our first bit of fun?" Elrohir asked. "Gil-Galad maybe?"

"Eru save us all..." muttered Glorfindel, following the Twins and shaking his head.

Galadriel and Celeborn smiled and bowed their heads respectfully to the Hobbits before boarding the ship themselves.

At last, Gandalf turned to them and smiled warmly. "Farewell, my brave Hobbits. My work is now finished. Here at last, upon the shores of Middle Earth, comes the end of our Fellowship." Merry and Pippin both began to cry. "I will not say 'do not weep.' For not all tears are an evil. It is time, Frodo."

It took a few moments for these words to sink in for the other Hobbits. They turned slowly to their friend. "What does he mean?" Sam asked, although the tears forming in his eyes said that he already knew.

"We set out to save the Shire, Sam." Frodo said sadly. "And it has been saved. But not for me."

"You don't mean that." Sam sobbed. "You can't leave."

"My dear Sam," Frodo said, placing his hand's on his shoulders. "you cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be and to do. Your part in this story will go on." He held out the red book, containing his story, along with Bilbo's. "The last pages are for you." He smiled and kissed Sam on the forehead. Then he turned to Merry and Pippin and embraced them. Finally, he turned to Gandalf and took his hand and together, they boarded the ship.

The Hobbits stood and watched until it vanished into the sunset. Then, with heavy hearts, they took their ponies and set off slowly back towards Hobbiton. When Sam at last reached the door of Bag End, he found Rosie waiting for him. He sat down in his favorite chair by the fire and set his little daughter, Elanor on his lap.

"Well, I'm back."


	31. Epilogue: Death

((Here it is! Sorry this took so long. I couldn't decide how I wanted to end it. But believe it or not, this ending came to me in a dream and I hope it will satisfy.

I DID IT! I OWN HARRY POTTER! BWAHAHAHA!

Ahem. Yeah right.))

* * *

A Year Later...

Atop a hill above the village of Hogsmeade, there stood a tall figure, swathed in a cloak which was blacker than the deepest darkness. Its face was utterly and completely shrouded by a hood. It stood absolutely still. The only sound emanating from beneath the hood was the barely audible hiss of breathing. From beneath the hood, its gaze was locked upon a tall castle which stood beyond the village. Castle Hogwarts. A place where children could come and learn to do magic. A safe place. At least...that was how it had been for time beyond memory. But this night was different. Far over its tallest tower there shone the chilling image of an acid green skull with a serpent coiling out of its open mouth.

The figure tore its gaze from the castle down to the village. As if he had expected it, two people, a boy and an old man, appeared in the street with a faint popping sound. The old man seemed weakened and was being supported by the boy. A third figure, a woman, came running down the street towards them. They seemed to confer for a few moments before the woman ran back the way she came and returned a moment later carrying two broomsticks. The boy and the old man mounted the broomsticks and flew straight towards the castle.

The figure followed them with its gaze until they vanished from sight.

For a long time, nothing happened, though the figure did not tear its gaze from the castle. Then, suddenly, there appeared a bright flash of green light from the top of the tower. Immediately following that, a ragged form fell over the battlements to the ground.

The figure did not move, but in the ground next to it, a hole opened. The hole was as black as the figure, almost like a giant pen had dripped a blot of ink onto the world. Finally, the figure made a movement. It swept its hand over the hole and it spoke a single word. "_Arise._" From the hole vomited forth a cloud of black smoke. The smoke swirled around and around, before coming together and forming into the figure of a man. The man was old and naked and frail-looking. And he was very much dead. A gaping, bloody wound was all that was left of his chest. The figure waved his hand again, and the wound began mending itself at an incredible speed. But that was not the end of it. His long white hair and beard turned black. The lines in his face vanished. His frail, wrinkled body became young and muscular. As the last vestiges of the wound vanished, the man's eyes shot open and he drew a deep breath, like one who has been trapped under water. He was flung violently onto the ground next to the black hole.

The man looked up at the figure and smiled. "That was rather more dramatic than necessary, don't you think?"

The figure turned to him and fixed its gaze upon him. "Albus Dumbledore is dead." it intoned in a deep voice.

The man looked up at Hogwarts and then at the slowly fading Dark Mark. "So, another was found to bring it about in place of the Malfoy child? Hmpf. You always get what you want, don't you?"

"If I did," the figure said, "you would still be down there."

The man glanced back at the hole and then at the castle again. "The boy. He got away from you back in Middle Earth...with a little help."

"Nobody robs Death of what is rightfully his." the figure growled. "Not even the gods. But his protectors have all passed beyond the veil now. The way to him is clear. Deliver him to me and I will free you. Do we have a bargain?"

The man smiled. "My lord, Death, nothing would give me greater pleasure. I will do as you command."

"One last thing." Death said. The man gasped and fell to the ground. On his back, a narrow, perfectly straight wound appeared. It quickly healed, but it left an angry red scar. "Until your task is complete, you still belong to me. So, I have left you with a reminder of the betrayal you suffered. Betray me, and you return to the pit. It will pain you once a day so that you do not forget. Do you understand, Saruman?"

The man stood slowly and smiled once again. "Oh, I think we can dispense with the alias. After all, I have come home. Let it be known and let all fear. Salazar Slytherin has returned and he will once again claim what is rightfully his.

A dark green and black robe appeared in the air before Slytherin.

"Get dressed." Death ordered. "And get to work.. Harry Potter's soul will be mine."

* * *

((Wow! Sequelness?! IT CANNOT BE! That's right. I will be writing a sequel to this story. As might be expected, the main setting will be the world of Hogwarts. What will transpire? Haha. As if I'm going to tell you. You'll just have to wait and see.

Thank you all for being such wonderful and amazing fans. I never expected that so many people would enjoy this story as much as they have. For all the reviews, I give you all my love and here's hoping you come back to see what devious plot Mr. Slytherin will employ to kill our bespectacled hero and his dashing platinum-haired lover.

Goodbye for now!))


	32. A notice from the author

((Hi kids! Me again! I just wanted to let you all know that I'm going to be going back and tweaking this story just a little bit. The story itself won't change, but there are a few little scenes I want to add in, just to make it a little bit better. I'll also take the time to fix any spelling gaffs and whatnot. So look forward to that!))


	33. A Notice From the Author II

Hi all! I've just posted the first chapter of the Extended edition of this story. Go check it out!

Love,  
DracoWhereArtThou


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